


Secret to the Grave

by Coby_Thinks



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt Spencer Reid, I hope you enjoy this cuz its fun to write, Kidnapped Spencer Reid, Set between season six and seven, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer Whump, Torture, Violence, anyway, because i'm an asshole, cus there's a lot of it, oh and did I mention angst, very specifically for that point in the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coby_Thinks/pseuds/Coby_Thinks
Summary: Something was wrong.Really, that was a stupid thing to actively think to himself. But hey, just because Spencer was a genius didn’t mean he wasn’t stupid. Still, it was really pretty obvious that something was wrong. Seeing as he was waking up blindfolded, tied to a chair, with no idea how he got in this situation.He really needed to stop getting kidnapped.Set between season six and seven - a scenario where a certain Ian Doyle doesn't fall for a faked death twice.WARNINGS: Torture, violence, etc. etc. Y'all know what's up.
Comments: 177
Kudos: 264





	1. Chapter One

Something was wrong.

Really, that was a stupid thing to actively think to himself. But hey, just because Spencer was a genius didn’t mean he wasn’t stupid. Still, it was really pretty obvious that something was wrong. Seeing as he was waking up blindfolded, tied to a chair, with no idea how he got in this situation. 

He really needed to stop getting kidnapped.

“Well well well.” Spencer stiffened when someone spoke - apparently having been waiting for him. “Look who’s finally awake.” wait a second… that voice was… The blindfold was pulled off and Spencer stared into the eyes of Ian Doyle. He felt a lot, at that moment. Fear, rage, grief. This was the man who killed one of Spencer's best friends and got away with it. He’d murdered a federal agent, then vanished off the face of the earth and they were forced to go back to work like nothing had happened.

“Surprised to see me?” Doyle stepped back, folding his arms. “We can do this one of two ways, Dr. Reid. Tell me where she is now, and I’ll make your death quick. Or you could keep quiet, and suffer more than you knew was possible.”

“...what are you talking about?” Spencer choked out, swallowing thickly. Doyle scowled.

“Agent Prentiss. Emily. Lauren. Whatever name you know her as.” he snarled, grabbing Spencer's shirt and shoving him into the chair roughly. “Tell me where she is. Everything you know about that new identity she’s gotten. Tell me, and I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“She’s dead.” Spencer snapped. “You killed her, remember?”

“I’m not falling for that again.” Doyle shook his head. “Don’t try and trick me, Doctor. I know you’ve been meeting with that other bitch from the FBI every single night you’re in town. You were just easier to nab - and if all else fails I can use your corpse as leverage with the others.”

“Leverage for what!? She’s dead - we buried her!”

“Oh really?” Doyle loomed over him for a moment before slamming his boot into Spencer’s ribcage twice in quick succession. Spencer cried out, doubling over as much as he could in the restraints. “Why don’t you tell me where her grave is, and I’ll give it a little visit?”

Yeah right. The idea of Doyle visiting - and probably vandalizing - Emily’s grave is the worst thing he could ever imagine. He stayed silent, glaring murderously at the man above him.

“I really was hoping you’d tell me easily.” Doyle sighed. “But I suppose now I have an excuse to take a few years of anger out on you.”

* * *

“Hotch, something happened to Reid.” JJ opened his office door without knocking, knowing he was alone. It was late, he was the only one still at work. Hotch looked up from his paperwork, eyebrows raised.

“What’s going on?”

“He called me, said he was on his way over. You know how he’s been… he needed a friend.” Hotch nodded. “He never showed up, Hotch. I went to his apartment, but his keys and bag and phone were gone. His phone is turned off, or it’s dead. I just… this isn’t like him.”

“When did he call you?” Hotch stood up, checking his watch.

“Around eight tonight. It only takes him an hour to get to my place, tops.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Hotch noted, glancing up and meeting JJ’s eyes. “Call Garcia in, I’ll contact the others to see if they’ve heard from him.”

“I already called Morgan, he says he hasn’t,” JJ added, pulling out her phone and hitting Garcia’s number. An hour later, the entire team minus Reid was gathered in the conference room. 

“Somewhere between his apartment and JJ’s house, Spencer disappeared,” Hotch said, nodding at the map on the screen. 

“I managed to track his phone to the subway station near JJ’s, but then it was turned completely off,” Garcia added, zooming in on the smaller area. “That was at eight forty-five - roughly four hours ago. Nobody’s heard from him since, and Will says he still hasn’t shown up at their house.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Rossi said slowly. “We don’t have an active case right now. There’s no one with a clear motive to hurt the kid.”

“Not connected to work, at least.” Morgan groaned, running a hand down his face. “God, Kid. Why do you do this to us?”

“We aren’t on the clock, it hasn’t been confirmed yet that Reid is missing,” Hotch said seriously. “Until we confirm that, we can’t fully investigate.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Morgan, come with me to the subway station. Maybe there’s something there.”

“Sounds good.” Hotch nodded, watching them leave the room. 

“I’ll search all the hospitals and emergency rooms for a Spencer Reid or a John Doe?” Garcia glanced at him, and Hotch nodded.

“JJ, we need to go through every possible situation of where Reid might have gone, or who might want to do him harm.” 

“That… could be a lot of people.” JJ winced. “Has anyone gotten released recently? Someone we put away?”

“We can have Garcia check that, too.” Hotch turned to the whiteboard, shoulders falling slightly. It was going to be a long night.

“This is the station his phone was last at.” Morgan looked around the darkened subway station, frowning. “He gets off the subway here, headed to JJ’s house.”

“It’s night-time, but not too late. There’s still a fair amount of people around.” Rossi adds, picturing the usual traffic of a late Sunday evening.

“He’s got his bag, keys, and phone with him. Probably a jacket and scarf, since it’s cold.” Derek paced toward the tracks, looking around for - well, for anything at all.

“Scarf?” Rossi paused. “That purple one with the god-awful designs on it?”

“Hey, he likes that scarf,” Derek said defensively.

“Morgan.” 

Derek stopped, turning to see where Rossi had wandered to. His blood ran cold when he saw why his partner had stopped.

Tucked into an alcove, behind the trash can, where nobody had looked for what was probably a few years. Spencer’s messenger bag and scarf, hidden in the shadows. Not even a spiderweb across the area was disturbed, but it was there. 

Spencer was not.

“Call Hotch.” Derek crouched, inspecting the bag and the surrounding area. “Something’s definitely wrong.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually post two chapters of something on the same day, but I'm really happy with this fic so I guess I'll post lol.
> 
> I'm glad y'all seem to be liking this! I'm pretty new to the fandom so my characterization isn't the /greatest/ but I'll try my best!!
> 
> Warnings: torture, branding, people being mad, people being sad, stalking mentions, death mentions

“You know, she’s very protective of her team,” Doyle said, slowly cutting away Spencer’s shirt with a knife. “All I had to do was threaten you, and she had nothing left.”

“Agent Prentiss is dead.” Spencer choked out, wincing as the blade nicked his skin. “You killed her. You got your revenge.”

“Well, I don’t know that for sure.” the remnants of the shirt were ripped off, leaving Spencer bare-chested. He shivered involuntarily from the cold. “I’d know if you gave me the location of her body, and yet you refuse.” 

Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line, watching warily as Doyle walked out of sight. He could hear the terrorist moving something, pulling a metal cart over next to the chair he was tied to.

“How close are you to her?” Doyle asked, messing with whatever it was on that cart. “You’re friends, I assume. Do you know about her tattoos?”

“I know she had them,” Spencer whispered carefully, trying to figure out what kind of game Doyle was playing. “Two.”

“Three.” Doyle turned, holding a small pen-like object in his hand. “I gave her a clover, a few months back. Branding instead of ink, though.”

“She’s dead,” Spencer said through gritted teeth. “Any tattoos she had have probably decayed by now.”

“Since you two are seemingly such good friends,” Doyle grabbed Spencer’s shoulder and held it back against the chair. “I thought I might give you one to match hers.”

He pressed the pen into the skin on Spencer’s chest, drawing a cry of pain from his lips. He could smell his flesh burning… it hurt. Oh, god, it hurt. He’d done this to Emily and then killed her. God, if Spencer ever got out of this he was going to kill Doyle with his bare hands. 

“Perhaps when I find her again, I’ll keep you alive and let you reunite,” Doyle said, still busy burning the clover into Spencer’s skin. “You were on your way to another meeting last night, weren’t you? Where you and Agent Jareau contact her? She’ll have missed you.”

“I-I- she’s dead!” Spencer sobbed, shaking his head. “I visit Jennifer to grieve her dea- auh!” Doyle pressed the pen deep into his shoulder, a sizzling hole burning itself there. After a moment, he resumed his project on Spencer’s chest.

“Don’t lie to me,” he advised casually. “I know Agent Jareau is in contact with her.”

“She’s dead!”

“You really should think of something new to say.” Doyle stepped back, putting the pen away and turning off the machine. Spencer slumped over, trying to ignore the agony in his chest and shoulder. “Unless you’re willing to prove to me she’s dead, and tell me the location of her grave.”

Spencer hated that idea. He hated it so much. He also knew that if Doyle was convinced enough that Emily was alive, even her body wouldn’t prove it to him. But the time it would take him to go check - go to the cemetery and vandalize her grave - could give him a time frame to escape. 

Not only that, but the desecration of Emily’s grave might clue the team into who had taken him. They’d definitely noticed he was missing, now. The only chance they had of finding him in time was if they knew something - anything.

“Alright.” Spencer grit his teeth, lifting his head and glaring at Doyle. “I’ll tell you where her body is.”

* * *

“Nothing.” Hotch rubbed his forehead wearily. “No DNA, nothing. Nothing but pictures taken of us without our knowledge, and Reid’s possessions.”

“It rules out the idea that he might have left on purpose.” Morgan offered helplessly. “The pictures weren’t taken by him.”

“They’re all we have to go on,” Hotch grumbled, shaking his head. “The unsub grabbed him somehow, put the pictures in his back, and meticulously put the bag in a secluded place. Then, took Reid without anyone noticing.”

“There’s no way one person could do that.” JJ protested, staring at the pictures on the board. “There has to be more than one unsub.”

“None of the people released from prison recently would work with a team,” Rossi said. “And none of them would be so meticulous.”

“So, we go back to the pictures.” JJ frowned. “Pictures of Hotch and Jack at soccer practice. Pictures of Morgan at one of his properties, working.”

“That was weeks ago.” Morgan pointed out. “The pictures of Rossi are from last Tuesday.”

“Then a picture of Reid, at the subway,” JJ noted. “The station near my house.”

“And then you, playing a computer game.” Hotch pulled the pictures into chronological order. “And Garcia’s picture is the oldest, almost a month old.”

“A computer game…” JJ frowned, picking up the picture taken through her house’s window. She only played Scrabble… with Emily. That thought made her eyes widen a bit, and she glanced at Hotch.

“I didn’t even know you played computer games.” Morgan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “God, what the hell are we supposed to do with this?”

“Hotch, I think-” JJ was cut off when the phone rang, and Hotch put Garcia on speakerphone.

“Garcia, what do you have?”

“Well… uhm… sir.” Penelope stammered a bit. “I’ve been looking over records and stuff, but I didn’t find anything. The thing is, I just got a notification that really doesn’t make sense.”

“What is it?” Hotch scowled.

“Someone… Emily’s grave was vandalized.” Garcia said softly. “Exhumed, basically. I don’t know how we didn’t get notified as soon as it was reported, but-”

“Exhumed?” Hotch snapped, meeting JJ’s eyes again. JJ felt a chill race through her. Oh no… 

“Yeah. The coffin is still there, but her body is gone. And they left… well, it’s being sent to us now. Should get here any time. I didn’t think it was connected, but then I was thinking about how a person could do such a thing and I realized the only person who would be crazy enough to do that was…”

“It’s Doyle.” JJ put a hand over her eyes, shaking her head. “He has Reid.”

“Wh- how do you put that together?" Derek demanded. "He took Prentiss’s body, why would he need-”

“Garcia, come into the conference room now,” Hotch said, hanging up. Garcia arrived moments later, and he closed the door. “Emily is alive, and it seems Ian Doyle wants to find her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dunnnnnnnn  
> Sorry if this is a bit fast paced... I promise the resolution will not be simple but it will have a happy ending.... after much angst and whump becauseeeeeee that's what I'm here for. Any fanfiction I've ever written is just angst. That's it. Literally nothing else.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter my boiiiiiiiis I'm an evil evil man lmao I just love torturing my favorite characters. Literally, in this case. 0_0
> 
> Warnings: faked deaths, arguing, I think Derek punches smth, torture, branding, blood mentions, the usual

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Derek stood up, slamming his hands on the table. “What?”

“She survived, and was sent with a new identity to keep her safe,” Hotch said. “Ian Doyle wasn’t caught, and if she lived he would have only kept targeting this team.”

“She’s alive…” Garcia breathed softly.

“You knew about this, too?!” Derek turned to JJ, who nodded. “Don’t you try and tell me the kid knows. He’s been torn up about this since day one. There’s no way he has any information for this son of a bitch.”

“He doesn’t.” JJ agreed. “But… Doyle may think he does.”

“Garcia, what did he leave at the grave?” Hotch turned, snapping Penelope out of her quiet state.

“Oh! Um, a box of random things. A flash drive, uhm, a phone, a coat…” The two items Reid had taken from his apartment that weren’t left in his bag. “Oh no… oh no no no this can’t be happening…”

“As soon as it gets here, we have to go over every inch of its contents,” Hotch said firmly. “If Doyle thinks Reid knows where Prentiss is, he’s being tortured for information.”

“But he doesn’t know!” Morgan snapped. “What’s he supposed to do?”

“The longer he keeps information from Doyle, the longer he’s kept alive,” JJ said softly. “But as soon as Doyle realizes he really doesn’t know…”

“We need to work fast.” Hotch agreed. “I’ll get in contact with Prentiss, have her flown home.”

“Isn’t she safer wherever she is?” Rossi questioned gently.

“She knows the most about Doyle.” Hotch shrugged. “And she’s our best bet for getting Reid home alive.”

“We’re talking about this once we find Reid,” Derek said loudly, pointing at both Hotch and JJ. “As soon as he’s safe, we’re having a very in-depth conversation about all of this.”

“Understood.” Hotch sighed, stepping out of the room and pulling out his phone. Derek sank into his chair, burying his head in his hands. This was the last thing he’d ever expected or wanted to happen. God, couldn't any of them catch a break?

“The package is here.” JJ interrupted his thoughts, opening the door, and coming inside with it. Derek hadn’t even noticed she left. “Garcia, look at everything on this flash drive as safely as you can. Don’t let any viruses or anything get to the system.”

“Got it. I can do that.” Penelope took the flash drive, disappearing to her lair. 

“So that’s definitely his coat.” Derek stood up, forcing himself to focus on the present. “And his phone - but I’m guessing it wasn’t destroyed like that last time he had it.”

“Yeah, that was definitely done when he got taken.” Rossi nodded, looking intently at the collar of the jacket, where Derek finally noticed a dark stain. “That needs to be tested. It looks like blood.”

“Oh, god…” JJ nodded, picking up the coat in its evidence bag. “I’ll… I’ll get it to the lab…”

And then she was gone. Derek leaned over the table, staring blankly down at the pictures. 

“He doesn’t deserve this, Rossi.” He said lowly, not looking at the old man’s reaction. “He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“We’ll get him back,” Rossi said, failing horribly to act confident. Derek could tell that even he didn’t believe those words.

* * *

Unfortunately, Spencer hadn’t been able to escape before Doyle came back. Mostly because he’d been knocked unconscious for a good chunk of time. Also because he was tied up, dehydrated, and utterly exhausted.

“They really went all for it,” Doyle said when he came back, sitting on a chair across from him. “When Lauren Reynolds died, they claimed to cremate her. Didn’t bury her, said they’d given her ashes to family.”

“Lauren Reynolds was a fake identity.” Spencer pointed out softly. “Emily Prentiss is who she really was, and you killed her.”

“I tried to.” Doyle nodded, shrugging slightly. “But obviously I failed.”

“I told you where her body is. You just can’t believe it, because you’re in denial. You wanted to kill her slowly, on your own terms. You can’t accept the fact that you had to do it quickly.”

“There was no body in that grave.” Doyle chuckled. “Weights, in the casket. But no body. I left a surprise for your teammates, just in case they want to trade information for your body.”

“They won’t.” Spencer sighed, closing his eyes. “There’s no information to share.”

“I’ll be sure you’re fully dead before giving you back, though.” Doyle continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’ll give them your body first, and your head last. How long do you think you can live without a head?”

“The idea of a human living through decapitation even for a few minutes has never been scientifically proven,” Spencer mumbled, half talking to himself. “At most, I would be conscious for fifteen or twenty seconds.”

“Fascinating,” Doyle said, sounding as if he’d never been more bored in his entire life. “You really won’t tell me where she is.”

“She’s dead.”

“I told you you’d need a better answer than that.” Doyle stood, flipping the switch on his branding machine and retrieving the pen. “You’ve been here for just over twenty-four hours, Dr. Reid. Every day that goes by where I don’t have my answer, I’ll give you a reminder of what you could prevent.”

Spencer just glared at him, gritting his teeth as Doyle branded a single tally mark into his chest - on the opposite side from the clover. God… he was going to die.

At least once he died, he could see Emily again.

* * *

“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, accepting the round of hugs the team offered her. “I’m so, so sorry. I missed you all every single day. I…”

“We can’t talk about that now.” Derek turned away, and Emily could tell he was furious. “Doyle has Reid, and I don’t really care about your apologies until he’s safe.”

“That’s understandable.” Emily winced, guilt flooding through her as she recounted the circumstances to herself. Somehow, Doyle had gotten the impression that Spencer knew her location. “What was on the flash drive?”

“A recording, nothing else.” Garcia wiped some tears away, then hit play on the recording. It was Spencer’s voice… screaming and sobbing that Emily was dead, and he didn’t know anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on life I may or may not have another chapter out today, after work. I'll definitely have one out tomorrow afternoon, either way! I'm really enjoying this fic so far lmao.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I couldn't update sooner! I had work and then dungeons and dragons, so the day was pretty busy lol
> 
> Next chapter here we goooo
> 
> Warnings: torture, faked death, death mentions, feeling hopeless, broken bones, the usual

“Oh god, Reid…” 

“The other voice is definitely Doyle,” Rossi noted, drumming his knuckles quietly on the table. “Odd.”

“What’s odd? We knew it was him.” Morgan said.

“He doesn’t talk to us, he doesn’t tell us what he wants. Why leave us the recording, but not address it?”

“He knows we know what he wants.” Hotch reasoned. “Just because he talks to Reid doesn’t mean he wasn’t talking to the rest of us.”

“Reid probably doesn’t know he recorded it.” Emily sighed. “Doyle needs him to break, so he’s doing all he can to make him feel isolated and hopeless.”

“Yeah, well even if the kid breaks, he can’t tell Doyle any information.” Derek snapped. “He thinks you’re dead, Prentiss. What’s he supposed to tell the guy?”

“That’s what worries me,” Emily admitted, burying her head in her hands.

“...you know Doyle most,” Rossi said after a moment of silence. “What are Reid’s chances?”

“Rossi, are you serious!?” Derek yelled, slamming a hand onto the table. “We’re gonna get him back!”

“Emily?”

“The only reason he might still be alive would be if Doyle has something to gain from keeping him alive,” Emily whispered, not looking up as Derek stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

“How can we be sure that he has something to gain?” Rossi asked thoughtfully. 

“We can’t.” Hotch frowned.

“Well, how can we give him something? We give the man reason to need the kid alive, the kid stays alive.”

“To do that, we’d have to find a way to contact Doyle.”

“He knows we know about this,” JJ said suddenly. “He sent us the recording for a reason. He didn’t have to do that. He wants us to contact him so he can find Emily.”

“So?”

“So, he’ll be watching for anything we do to get his attention.” Emily’s eyes widened. “How soon can we get a press conference?”

“It’s late, but I’ll do my best. We also need to make a game plan.” JJ pulled out her phone, glancing warily at the clock. Almost two days had passed since Spencer disappeared. They really needed this to work.

* * *

“Day Two,” Doyle said, as casual as if they were friends out to lunch and he wasn’t branding a tally mark into Spencer’s chest, a few centimeters away from the first. “You have nothing to gain from staying quiet.”

“You… have nothing to gain from - augh! - from t-tor-torturing me…” Spencer hissed, blinking back tears of pain. “She’s… she’s dead.”

“She’s alive. Even if you refuse to tell me where she is, I’ll find her.”

“Sh-she… she’s dead. You… you killed her.”

“Do you know how I’ll find her?” Doyle asked, putting the branding pen away. “I’ll keep you alive until she realizes where you are. And then, she’ll come for you. And I’ll kill you in front of her before killing her.”

“Ne...nev...never gonna happen.” Spencer insisted, clamping his eyes shut. He was completely unprepared for the shattering blow to his right leg and cried out in pain when he felt something snap. Oh, god... 

“Just because I’m not killing you yet,” Doyle threatened, nudging the now broken limb with his foot and making pain shoot through it. “Doesn’t mean I won’t make you wish you were dead.”

Spencer just grimaced, closing his eyes again even though it would make whatever came next hurt more. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be at home, or at the BAU, or dead. Or… anywhere but here.

The door opened, and Spencer dimly heard one of Doyle’s goons saying something. Goon. What a weird word.

“Oh really?” Doyle kicked Spencer’s broken leg as he passed by on his way out, and Spencer couldn't stop a scream of pain from escaping him. Then the door closed… and the room was quiet.

“Oh… god.” Spencer choked out, opening his eyes and looking down at his leg. He couldn't exactly see it, due to his pants covering the damage, but there was no blood. That meant the bone hadn’t broken through the skin, which was good. The main problem would be if the break wasn’t set correctly, and started to heal itself. 

“Son of a…” he knew that Doyle probably wouldn’t accept the fact that Emily was dead. But it hopefully gave him the smallest chance of living. If Doyle stayed convinced that she was alive, he’d apparently keep Spencer alive until he found her. Or until the team found them, and got Spencer out of here.

He just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

All too soon, the door slammed back open. Spencer glared as Doyle strutted inside, followed by his goon, who was holding a laptop. The device was placed on the chair where Doyle had been sitting, and Spencer’s eyes widened.

It was a live press conference outside the BAU… and Emily was there.

“Tell me again,” Doyle said, grabbing Spencer’s hair and pulling his head up so they made eye contact. “About Agent Prentiss being dead.”

“Th-that's… that’s impossible.” Spencer breathed. “She… you… you killed her.” there was no way. This had to be fake somehow, or… what the heck was going on?

“I told you, Dr. Reid.” Doyle roughly pushed his head away and stepped back, putting his hands in his pockets. “Agent Prentiss is very protective of your team. All I need to do is threaten you, and she’ll be right where I want her.”

Spencer swallowed thickly, staring at the press conference on screen. This didn’t make any sense… the laptop was muted, but he didn't need to hear it to be completely and utterly confused.

She was dead. They buried her. They… he’d sobbed over her death every night for the past two months. If her death was faked… and obviously other people on the team knew about it because she was back now. JJ… had JJ really been in contact with her? That didn’t… that didn’t make sense.

“I have some things to do in preparation for her visit.” Doyle stepped away from him, and the goon closed the laptop. “I’m sure that genius mind of yours can find something to do to pass the time while I’m gone.”

And he left. And Spencer was left alone with his racing thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Definitely not how Emily wanted to tell Spencer she was alive... but I'm sure that won't become a problem for anyone's emotional stability later on.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five! Here we goooooo
> 
> Warnings: torture, branding, not quite suicidal ideation, but wishing for death happens so like, blood mentions, broken bones, the usual.

Spencer wasn’t sure how long it had been, now. All he knew was that every second that went by made his chances of surviving this smaller and smaller. Which, based on his chances at the start, really didn’t bode well.

He could assume he’d been held hostage for four days if he trusted that Doyle was only adding the tally marks every twenty-four hours. But he didn’t trust Doyle, and he was out of it and exhausted enough that he couldn't accurately tell how much time had really passed.

There was no way out of this for him. He’d have to outsmart Doyle to get out of this, but his head was so muddled with pain and a pounding headache… just thinking clearly was becoming difficult. 

Doyle seemed overwhelmingly confident that his plan was going to work, and Spencer had to wonder if he’d contacted the team somehow without being found. It wouldn’t make sense for the team to agree to negotiations on this… then again, it didn’t make sense for them to not tell him Emily was still alive.

It hurt, deep in his chest and stomach, when he thought about Emily. She’d faked her death, apparently. And JJ had definitely known about it… Hotch did most likely. How many of the others had known, and not told him? All of them? Didn’t Emily know he’d die for her anyway? Knowing she was alive wouldn’t have changed a thing he did during this. It hurt, knowing they didn’t trust him. 

It made him wonder if Doyle was right about his plan. If Emily really would trade herself to save him. No, Emily was smart enough to know that Doyle would kill them both. The safest and most reasonable option would be to accept that Spencer was a goner, and catch Doyle as soon as safely possible. Of course, there was the rest of the team. Derek, at least, wouldn’t stop until Spencer was safe or dead. Garcia too, most likely. He’d like to think JJ would, but now… well, it didn’t really matter what they’d do. He was going to die.

“Comfortable, Dr. Reid?” Spencer winced when Doyle strolled in, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. He paused, blatantly waiting for an answer. 

“F-fu-fuck you…” Spencer hissed. Doyle laughed, driving his knee into Spencer’s ribcage, in the same place he’d been kicking since the first day. Bruising, and probably breaking, a rib or two.

“It’s been five days now,” Doyle said, pulling over the cart and turning on the machine. “Do you think I overestimated your friendship? She hasn’t come for you.”

“So kill me,” Spencer muttered, eyeing the pen warily. 

“I don’t think I will.” Doyle inspected the tally marks already branded into his chest. “Live bait always works better, for me.”

“Wh-” Spencer cried out when the pen burned into his skin again. “St-stop! God, please… y-you… you know whe- AUH! Y-you… you know where she is…”

“Oh, this isn’t to persuade you.” Doyle chuckled, making a diagonal tally mark across the other four. It hurt worse than any of the others, re-opening the old wounds and making Spencer’s head spin. “When your friends get your body back, they’ll see how many days went by where they left you here with me. I wonder how much longer they’ll let this go on.”

Spencer couldn't answer. It was taking all of his willpower to stay quiet, keeping from sobbing in pain and frustration. He just wanted this to end. God, why wouldn’t Doyle just kill him?

* * *

“JJ.” JJ turned, baffled to see Will - and Henry - walking into the bullpen.

“Will? What are you… what’s going on?” They were supposed to be at home, with agents staying there to keep them safe in case Doyle went after someone else.

“This showed up at the house.” Will held out a small package, shaking his head. “It’s meant for you… for the team.”

“Oh my god…” JJ took it, noting it had already been opened. Will averted his gaze, holding Henry’s hand a little tighter. She opened the top, feeling sick at the sight of another flash drive, and a bloodstained lock of brown hair.

“JJ, what is it?” Hotch approached, looking between her and Will in concern. JJ held out the box for him to take before sinking into Will’s embrace. “When was this delivered?”

“This morning,” Will said softly. “As soon as I opened it, I brought it here.”

“You and Henry can stay here for now,” Hotch said, turning to the conference room, where most of the team was still brainstorming. “JJ… you can step back if you want.”

“No!” JJ pulled away from Will, folding her arms. “I’m helping you find Reid.” she kissed Will briefly, then hugged Henry, before following him into the conference room.

“Don’t tell me.” Derek groaned when he saw the package, burying his head in his hands. He’d been taking this… not well at all. None of them had been, sure, but he was angry as well as concerned. Fairly, too. 

“Garcia, flash drive. Same deal as before.” Hotch said, handing over the small object. “We need to get the hair to the lab, see if it’s Reid’s DNA.”

“On it.” Rossi took the box, sparing a worried look around the room at them all before he left. 

“It’s very likely that the flash drive contains some sort of proof of life,” Hotch noted, folding his arms. “Doyle wants to lure Prentiss to him, probably promising a trade.”

“He won’t let Spencer live if he can help it,” Emily warned, shaking her head. “We have to find out where he is. Where was the package postmarked?”

“I’ll text Rossi, let him know we need the shipping label.” Derek sighed, pulling out his phone. 

“Sir?” Garcia’s voice came through the phone in the middle of the table.

“What do you have?”

“This drive had more on it, but still no viruses or trojan horses or anything like that.” she began softly. “It has a video and a written document.”

“Video is probably proof of life..” Hotch murmured, closing his eyes. JJ looked at Derek and Emily, neither of whom seemed very optimistic about watching it. “We’ll be at your office in a moment, Garcia. Don’t watch it until we’re there with you. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” 

The video was, in a word, horrific. Spencer definitely didn’t know it had been recorded, but he was alive. Being tortured, asking Doyle to kill him, but alive.

“What does the document say?” Emily asked quietly, a few minutes after the video had ended. Garcia pulled it up silently, letting them all read it.

“I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” Derek muttered, turning away. Emily just pursed her lips, reading and re-reading the taunts. Doyle definitely wanted them to find him… he knew exactly what he was doing, too. 

But now, so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dunnnnnn  
> Let's hope Emily's right... mwahahahahahaha
> 
> Comments are appreciated!!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part of me wants to keep y'all in suspense until tomorrow... but the other part of me really wants the validation of sharing this and getting feedback lmao so here's another chapter I guess
> 
> Warnings: cliffhanger, guns, death threats, torture, accepting death, the usual

Spencer wondered if he’d see the same thing when he died as he did the last time. He’d miss his mom… and Emily was apparently still alive so he wouldn’t even get to see her in whatever afterlife there was. Maybe he’d see Tobias if DID didn’t carry over to the other side. Maybe he’d get to apologize to all the people he’s failed to save. That would be nice.

This sucked. There was so much else he wanted to do with his life. He had goals, plans. He wanted to see JJ’s kids grow up, maybe have his own kids. He wanted to cure schizophrenia. Maybe get a Ph.D. in psychology. Now, he wouldn’t be able to do any of that. He was going to die.

Spencer wasn’t sure how long he’d been in this room alone… but it had been awhile. Longer than Doyle usually left him. Maybe he’d decided to just let Spencer starve to death, and given up on torturing him. That would make sense. After all, he knew where Emily was now. 

Maybe he was already dead. That would be weird. He hadn’t seen the light, or the figure again. Spencer cracked his eyes open curiously. No, he was still alive. Still trapped in the same room he’d been in for… however long it had been. He’d die soon, though. From infection, or starvation, or dehydration… or if Doyle came back and delivered on that promise of decapitating him. 

Surprisingly, that would be the most painless of the possibilities. He’d only suffer for about twenty seconds, whereas the other three would undoubtedly be painful until the end. 

He really didn’t want to die.

Spencer blinked a few tears from his eyes, fully aware that he was dehydrated and shouldn’t let himself cry. But he was going to die anyway. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

The door slammed open and Spencer winced, lifting his head to see an irate Ian Doyle storming over, gun in hand. Oh, great. That hadn’t even been one of the possibilities Spencer imagined. 

Surprisingly, Doyle didn’t say anything or gloat as he grabbed Spencer’s head and pressed the gun to it. Before Spencer could make a sound, Doyle’s arm was pressed over his mouth.

Dimly, through the door that Doyle left open, Spencer heard voices he hadn’t expected to hear again. The team was here…? Why? If they contacted Doyle it must have been a trap, but Doyle didn’t seem happy at all with what was going on. It was highly unlikely they’d found Doyle without him contacting them. 

Maybe he was hallucinating.

Why hadn’t Doyle killed him yet? 

Damn, his leg was killing him… it was still tied to the chair but it got jerked around when Doyle grabbed him.

“Where is she?” Doyle yelled. Spencer blinked a few times, confused. He couldn't answer, seeing as his mouth was covered. Not only that, but Doyle knew she was back at the BAU.

“Drop the gun now.” Oh, maybe he’d been talking to Hotch instead of Spencer. Spencer blinked a few times when he registered Hotch standing in the doorway, gun out and pointed at Doyle. 

“You won’t kill me.” Doyle sneered. “Your government needs me alive. Besides, it’s too risky to shoot me when I have your agent in front of me.” Hotch glanced down, meeting Spencer’s eyes. Spencer just looked at him.

Man, he really didn’t know how to feel about this. He was probably still going to die, but the odds had shifted. Hotch was here. Hotch… Spencer would have preferred almost anyone else. Derek, or Garcia, or Rossi. Someone who may not have known about Emily being alive, who didn’t lie to him and let this happen.

Oh shit, did he blame them for this? He kinda did. Wow, that was weird. He didn’t usually blame anyone but himself for this kind of thing. Though, to be fair, this really really wasn’t his fault. 

“There’s no way out for you, Doyle,” Hotch warned. “The building is surrounded, all your men are dead or in custody. It’s the end of the line.”

“Where is she!” Doyle snarled, pressing the gun harder against Spencer’s head. Spencer closed his eyes, too exhausted to try and understand what was going on. 

“That doesn’t matter. Put the gun down.”

“I’ll kill him.” Spencer heard the click of the gun being cocked. This was it. He was going to die. He really didn’t want to die. He was going to miss his mom.

* * *

They’d known it was a trap since Emily first deciphered the riddle in Doyle’s message. The mistake Doyle had made was expecting Emily to come alone like she had before. No, not this time. Emily wasn’t approved for fieldwork, and they knew letting Doyle see her in person would only make things worse for her and Reid both. 

She’d stayed behind. 

Derek really wasn’t sorry about that. He was pissed. He was pissed in general, and specifically at JJ and Hotch for keeping this secret from the team. He was absolutely furious at Doyle, which is why he was instructed not to follow Hotch once they’d taken down the men he'd hired.

Seeing too many agents in a small space could cause Doyle to kill Reid before they had a chance to do anything. Seeing Hotch would throw him off since he’d been planning for Emily to be the one to show up. All the others could do was wait in the hall, weapons poised in case it backfired and Doyle was the person who stepped out first. 

Derek was going to lose his mind. Every second he sat out here, Reid was in that room with the man who’d been torturing him for information he didn’t know. For a week. A goddamn week. The only reason they’d found him now was that Doyle wanted them to. That really made him angry. 

The seconds dragged into minutes, and he looked over at Rossi, who was blatantly just as concerned about the situation as Derek was. They could hear the murmur of voices, with Doyle yelling enough for him to hear the threats he made against Reid’s life.

That meant he was still alive. Thank god. 

And then they heard the gunshot, and Derek’s blood turned to ice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heeeere's another chapter! Got a lot done today outside of writing, so there might not be another update today. But for sure there will be a chapter tomorrow!!
> 
> Warnings: hospital, injury mentions, feeling betrayed, torture mentions, uhhh I think that's everything!

Spencer didn’t remember much about how he got here. He thought he was dead, but he still hadn’t seen the soft light or the welcoming figure. That, and dead people usually weren’t admitted to hospitals.

He hated hospitals. The lights were always too bright, and it was too freakishly sterile, and… well, at least there would be jello once he woke up.

Wasn’t he awake? He felt awake. He was aware of his surroundings, at least. That had to count for something. 

So he wasn’t dead. That really didn’t match up with what was happening the last time he could focus clearly. There had been a gun to his head, and a homicidal terrorist who’d gone off the rails for revenge with a finger on the trigger. And a gunshot. And that’s when he resigned himself completely to death.

But he wasn’t dead. Apparently.

That meant the gunshot hadn’t been from Doyle’s gun. Which left Hotch. Hotch was never a trigger happy agent, probably why he’d been made Unit Chief. That, and it was incredibly risky to fire on Doyle in that situation. 

But that was the only possibility unless someone shot Hotch. 

He hoped that wasn’t it. He was mad at Hotch, but Spencer didn’t want him dead. 

Huh. Spencer wasn’t dead. That was nice.

“-on pretty boy, open those eyes for me.”

Hey, wait. That was Derek. How long had he been talking? Spencer wasn’t sure. But he was here now, holding one of Spencer’s hands tightly as he spoke.

“You’re safe, you’re at the hospital. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Was Spencer ever really safe, with the job he had? Probably not. But, that was okay. 

“I can tell you’re awake, Reid. You always sucked at pretending to be asleep.”

Well, there goes that ruse.

Spencer cracked his eyes open, wincing even though the light wasn’t as bright as usual. Someone had evidently turned the main lights off, leaving just the lamp on. That was nice of them. Derek smiled, running his thumb over the back of Spencer’s hand.

“There you go. How ya feeling, kid?” Spencer just looked at him, meeting his eyes, searching for any information about what happened.

Had Derek known before about Emily being alive? Did he know what happened after the gunshot? Who had been shot? How long has Spencer been gone, and how long had he been at the hospital?

All of these questions sat in his mouth, but Spencer kept it shut. He didn’t know how to feel… who to trust. He knew no one had intentionally put him in harm's way…but someone had known this might happen. Someone had known Emily was still alive, and that JJ was somehow in contact with her. 

“Everyone’s been real worried about you, Reid,” Derek said, filling the silence. “He had you for a week, and you’ve been out for four days added on to that.” Well, that was those questions answered. 

Spencer nodded, sitting up slightly with a wince. Derek helped adjust his pillows, being mindful of his broken ribs. He could also feel bandages on his chest, over the brands Doyle had put there. Were there seven tally marks? He couldn't remember how many there were last. 

“Rossi’s on his way over with some books from your desk,” Morgan said when Spencer still didn’t speak. “I know you keep your favorites at home, but we didn’t wanna intrude.”

Spencer just nodded again, and Derek sighed softly, head hanging.

“Jesus, kid, please at least say something?”

Spencer winced guiltily, opening his mouth slightly. His mouth was dry, though the IV’s had gotten him hydrated again. 

“P-pass… pass me that water…?” he nodded to the hospital jug on the bedside table, and Derek quickly got it over to him, letting him drink gratefully. “Where’s Emily?” As if he had any idea what he’d say to her when he saw her next.

“Ah.” Derek’s face darkened slightly, but he forced a small smile. Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Everyone’s waiting until you feel up to it… Rossi and I may or may not have kept them out.”

“Oh.” Spencer glanced around the room again, eyes falling on a few Doctor Who figurines in the windowsill. “G-Gar-Garcia?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s been around.” Derek chuckled slightly. “Nobody could keep her from visiting you.” 

Spencer chuckled at that, though his mind was still working overtime trying to figure out who would have known that Emily was alive. It would be hard to hide from Garcia, but she probably hadn't looked. They buried Emily, after all. And he knew Garcia's grief had been genuine.

Of course, he thought JJ's grief was genuine too. 

Spencer glanced down at his leg, noting the cast around it. It hurt less, for sure. That was a good sign. 

"Knock knock." Spencer looked over when Rossi stepped inside, looking pleasantly surprised to see him awake. "About time you woke up, kiddo. I thought you were going into hibernation or something."

Spencer bit back a comment about how that wasn't how hibernation worked, just rolling his eyes. 

"They're still downstairs if you want to call them up," Rossi said to Morgan. Morgan sighed, and Spencer raised an eyebrow.

"You know I don't," Morgan muttered. "But I guess that's up to you now, pretty boy. You up to seeing anyone else?"

Spencer hesitated, picking at the blanket. On one hand, he didn't want to talk to any of them. Not until he knew who to trust.

"D-did… did you know?" He asked softly, staring at the wall. Derek sighed.

"No, kid. I didn't know. Nobody but JJ and Hotch knew." Spencer nodded. That lined up with what he'd considered so far.

"Th-they can… they can come… I-I guess…" he was still mad. But he needed to see Emily in person. Rossi nodded, putting the books he’d brought on the table. They were a few of Spencer’s favorites, and he was glad to have them here. Who knows when he’d be released.

“I’ll go get em,” Rossi decided, sending a sad smile in his direction. He left, and Spencer closed his eyes. 

What on earth was he going to say when the others got up here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun Dunnnnn you'll see what happens next time! Mwahahahahahaha
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Jason


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to see an angry Spencer? cuz that's what you're gonna get lmao
> 
> Warnings: hospitals, torture mentions, injury, death mention, faked death mention, yelling, angy boi

While Rossi was gone, Derek explained that he wasn’t in any medical danger. He just needed his ribs and leg to heal and rest to recover from the several concussions he’d received. He’d be released in the next day or so, depending on a few more tests they needed to run.

That was a relief, really. Spencer hated hospitals.

He wasn’t able to relax much, though, watching the door to his room while he prepared himself to see Emily. Her, and JJ and Hotch. Did he still blame them for this, or had that been a thing he felt in the moment? … yeah, he still blamed them for this.

“Oh, Spence!” Spencer flinched back, shocked and slightly offended when JJ hurried in, going to give him a hug. She froze in her tracks when he met her eyes. Was she serious? 

“Whoa, there pretty boy,” Derek put a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, helping him sit back against the pillows. “You’ve still got a broken rib or two in there.”

“Um… sorry.” JJ wrung her hands a bit and smiled, stepping to the side a bit as Hotch, Rossi, and Emily arrived. Spencer pursed his lips, looking from JJ to Hotch, both of whom seemed like they’d not slept for a long time. He wished he felt bad for them. 

“D-did…” Spencer looked back at JJ, painfully aware of the tears in his eyes when he saw Emily in his peripheral. He couldn't look at her right now. “Did you… rea-really think I’d… wan-want a hug from you… right now?”

“What do you mean?” JJ looked devastated, and she glanced sideways toward Hotch and Emily. Spencer’s eyes widened indignantly.

“I-I’m not… I’m not stupid, JJ!” Spencer snapped. “I-I can… I can put two and... And two together ev-even… even when I’m being t-tortured.”

“I didn’t say you were stupid,” JJ said softly, shifting uncomfortably. She obviously knew what Spencer was talking about, so why was she dancing around the topic? 

“Y-you… you did-didn’t tell them.” he realized aloud. “Af-after… a week and four d-day-days… th-they still don’t… they don’t know wh-why this… why this happened.” unbelievable.

“Reid, what are you talking about?” Hotch frowned, looking at JJ critically.

“E-ev-even Hotch?” Spencer couldn't believe this. “Y-you didn’t ev-even tell Hotch you… you were in c-con-contact with Emily?”

“You were what!?” Derek jumped to his feet, but Hotch held up a hand.

“JJ, look at me right now,” he demanded. JJ did, guilt written across her face. “Both of you, outside. Now.” he stepped back for JJ and Emily to pass, and Spencer still refused to look at Emily. 

Neither of them thought it was important enough to tell the team? Even Emily, after coming out of hiding and finding out that he was being tortured?

“I-I… I don’t… I don’t want to see them again.” Spencer whispered, head collapsing back into the pillows as tears started rolling down his face. “N-not… not today.” Maybe not ever.

* * *

“You both have sixty seconds to explain yourselves before I take your badges and guns,” Hotch said, turning to face the other two. 

That had been the missing piece that bugged him so much. Why Reid? Why take Reid? Here was the answer. If JJ had been in contact with Emily, and Doyle saw Reid visiting her as often as he had been, it was a sensible conclusion to come to that he’d know where she was.

“We… it wasn’t really contact!” JJ finally said. “We… we played online scrabble. We didn’t even talk, we just-”

“You what?” Hotch turned his glare to Emily, who looked just as devastated.

“It seemed harmless…”

“Harmless.” Rossi said, walking up behind them. Both agents winced. “Do you have any idea how harmful it had the potential to be?”

“Of course-”

“If it wasn’t Reid, it could have been you.” Rossi snapped. “Or Will. or Henry.” JJ paled, gaze falling to the floor.

“Give me your badge and gun.” Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll talk about this when we don’t have an agent in the hospital. Until further notice, you’re suspended. Prentiss, you haven’t been reinstated yet and you won’t be until we figure this out.”

JJ handed the items over, and Hotch sighed and stared down at them for a moment, then looked back up at her.

“Go home.”

“But-”

“The kid doesn’t want to see you, Jennifer.” Rossi interrupted. “He’s… he’s hurt. Frankly, so am I.”

“Go home. We’ll call you with any important updates.” Hotch repeated. “You too, Prentiss.”

Once they’d left, Hotch turned to look at Rossi. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I can tell, Aaron.” Rossi patted his shoulder. “So can Reid, I think. I think he wanted to forgive her when he thought she’d come clean.”

“We should have told the team.” Hotch found his briefcase in the waiting area, next to some things Derek and Rossi had left there as well. He put JJ’s badge and gun inside, locking it securely. “Maybe if they all knew, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe.” Rossi shrugged. “This isn’t your fault, Aaron. You did what you thought was best.”

“You saw him, Dave.” Hotch rubbed his face, feeling twice as exhausted as he’d been before. “You saw what happened to him. What that bastard did.”

“You killed him,” Rossi said gently. “He’s gone. Doyle won’t ever hurt someone again.”

“I know.”

“The doctor’s in there with him, now.” Rossi sat in the chair next to him, and Hotch nodded. “Garcia’s on her way, just got stuck in traffic. He’s going to be okay.”

“Is he?” Hotch whispered brokenly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “He… a week, Rossi. I know he’s tough, and he’s bounced back from things before, but he was tortured for a week. He got… he has seven days burned into his skin.”

“The kid’s stronger than you think.” Rossi insisted. “Stronger than he thinks, too. He’ll make it outta this, we just have to be here for him.”

“Yeah.” Hotch nodded, though he couldn't quite believe what Rossi was saying. “You’re right.” God… please let him be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof look at those consequences coming back to bite
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter yeeee Tho unfortunately I think I've lost my Sugarglider comics and this saddens me greatly. I will write to escape the pain, I suppose.
> 
> Warnings: hospitals, injuries, torture mentions, anger, concussion mention, broken bones, burn mentions, slight brain damage implied

“The stuttering is a side effect of your head injuries.” the doctor explained, shining a light in Spencer’s eyes before putting it away and making a note on the chart. “An untreated concussion is bad enough, but any one of the blows you sustained could have caused problems. It shouldn’t be permanent, at least not like this.”

“Th-that… that’s good,” Spencer said, though he’d already suspected this. He was honestly surprised he didn’t have more problems from all that.

“Your ribs will be sensitive for a few months, and you shouldn’t fly for at least two. The change in air pressure could break them again.” the doctor added, moving to check the iv line and monitors. “Your leg will take longer, and you might need to walk with a cane after this, but you’ll most likely regain full motion.” 

“Okay.”

“The rest of your injuries were rather superficial…” the doctor hesitated, looking at something on her clipboard. “The burns are healing well, and they didn’t get infected. So there’s really nothing to worry about except possible scar treatments if you’d like.”

“N-Nah.” Spencer couldn't find it in himself to care about the clover, or the tally marks branded into his chest. Nobody ever saw him without a shirt, anyway. If they didn’t impact his health, it wasn’t worth spending money to fix.

“Alright then,” the doctor smiled. “We’ll keep you one more night just to make sure everything’s alright, but then you should be fine to go home if you promise to take it easy.”

“He’ll take it easy alright,” Derek said before Spencer could respond. “I’ll be there to make sure of it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Th-tha-thank you, Morgan.”

“Well, everything seems to be doing well so far.” The doctor stepped back, smiling. She smiled a lot, Spencer noted. “I’ll let you get some rest, Dr. Reid.”

“R-ri-right.” Spencer tried not to wince as he heard Doyle’s voice instead of hers. “Than-thank you.” Man, it was going to be really frustrating if he couldn't handle people calling him ‘Dr. Reid’ or ‘Doctor’ after all this. 

“Garcia’s almost here,” Morgan said, checking his phone. “You up to seeing her?”

“Y-yeah.” Spencer managed a smile, readjusting his position on the bed. If he needed anything right now, it was Garcia. 

Though… he still wasn’t exactly sure what had happened after Doyle put the gun to his head. If anyone would tell him outright, it would be Morgan. Spencer looked over at his friend, who was texting someone. Probably Garcia, to tell her she could head on up.

“He-hey Morgan?”

“Yeah, kid?” Derek put the phone away, turning his attention to Spencer. 

“Wh-what… what happened?” Spencer asked softly. “I-I mean with… with Doyle. And H-ho-hotch? I don’t… re-rem-remember.”

“Doyle’s dead,” Morgan said shortly. “Hotch killed him… I don’t know all the details, I wasn’t in the room.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded, filling in the blank spot with that information. “Wh-why… why did I pass out? I-I remember everything up un-until then.”

“Pretty boy,” Derek laughed softly. “You were dehydrated and malnourished. It’s a miracle you stayed awake as long as you did. Probably adrenaline. As soon as you were safe, your body shut down to preserve energy. You were out cold before Hotch could say a word to ya.”

“Oh,” Spencer said again, shifting awkwardly. “I-I… I thought… I thought I was dying.” he whispered. 

“Well, would you look at that,” Derek smiled. “You aren’t always right after all.”

“Haha, v-very funny.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “D-Do you think I could get s-some… some Jello?”

* * *

“Oh, junior g-man! I’m so happy to see you awake!” Garcia rushed over to him, wrapping Spencer gently in a hug. Spencer laughed, blinking back tears as he returned it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Garcia’s loud personality.

“Good t-to see you too.”

“But seriously, Spencer.” she stepped back, folding her arms with a dramatic pout. “If you keep getting hurt, I’m going to swaddle you in bubble wrap and keep you in my lair. Out of harm's way, for good!”

“If I d-didn’t… if I didn’t know an-any better, I’d say you were th-threa-threatening me.” Spencer smirked, making Derek chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s a threat.” Garcia pointed at her eyes, then at Spencer. “I’m watching you like a hawk, baby! You ain't ever gonna get hurt again!”

“I-I’m… I’m okay, Pen.” Spencer promised, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Despite all her dramatic Garcia-ness, he knew she was dead serious. “I’m lea-leaving the hospital tomorrow a-an-and everything.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” She hugged him again, then turned to give Derek a stink eye. “You better tell me he’s not going home alone, hot stuff.” Now, Spencer did roll his eyes. 

“Don’t you worry about a thing, baby-girl.” Derek promised. “We still gotta work out the details, but I’m not leaving pretty boy’s side till he can at least walk again.”

“I-I’m right here, you kno-know.” Spencer muttered.

“We do need to talk about it,” Derek relented, looking over at him instead of Garcia. “You wanna go to your place? You can stay with me, too. Either way, you’ll have me around. The whole team’s getting some vacation time while they figure this all out.”

“Wh-wha-whatever works…” Spencer paused, considering the options. “M-my place doesn’t ha-have a great elevator…”

“So you wanna stay with-”

“Not so fast!” Spencer jumped slightly when Rossi walked in, shaking a finger. “You aren’t deciding where to stay until you have all the options, Kiddo. My place is plenty big enough and comfortable if you’re interested.”

“Are you sure?” Derek seemed surprised. Spencer would have thought they talked about it before he woke up, knowing them. 

“Of course I’m sure.” Rossi waved a hand. “You’re welcome to stay too since I know you won’t leave his side.”

“Th-that… that might be best,” Spencer admitted, wincing slightly as he righted himself on the pillows. Rossi hadn’t meant to surprise him, but his heart was still pounding. “At-at least until I c- at least until I can walk again.”

There was no way he’d be able to get up to his own apartment in a wheelchair. The charming age of the building really wasn’t working out in his favor at the moment. 

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you from your place, too,” Derek said before Spencer could even bring it up. “You just focus on getting better, alright? Don’t worry about a thing.”

“R-right.” Spencer forced a smile, thoughts turning back to friends not in the room. 

He still… he still considered JJ his friend. Weird. He was pissed, but he knew she hadn’t intended for this to happen, but… it might be a while before he was ready to see her again. That thought hurt, but Spencer knew he’d just yell if he saw her anytime soon. Same with Emily. 

It was times like these that Spencer wished he could just stop thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all wanna see consequences for JJ and Emily but I'm trying to figure out all the logistics of how I want it in the plot so for now you get recovering Spencer angst and fluff but rest assured there will be more consequences.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> \- Coby/Spencer (co-fronting kinda day :/)


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, Chapter Ten!! ^-^
> 
> Warnings: hospitals, nightmares, PTSD, torture mentions, fake death mentions, slight self-deprecation, and general angst.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Spencer wake up screaming, but god knows if Derek didn’t want it to be the last. He’d been asleep for a few hours now, and Derek was just starting to drift off when Spencer started crying out.

“I-I don’t know- no! Please, she’s dead. She’s dead!” 

“Reid?” Derek reached to grab Spencer’s arms. “Reid, wake up!”

“She’s gone, g-gone…” Spencer sobbed. “P-please- god, please!”

“Spencer, you’re safe!” Derek insisted, feeling like his heart was ripping into pieces when Spencer just sobbed again, not waking up. “Wake up, pretty boy. Come on now.”

“I-I-I- Emily!” Spencer’s eyes flew open and he gasped, trying to sit up. Derek let go of him, helping him prop himself up on the pillows. “Wh- Emily, where’s Emily?” Derek winced.

“She’s safe, Reid. You’re safe, and she’s safe, and everything’s okay.”

“Sh-she’s alive.” Spencer closed his eyes, pressing a trembling hand to his face. “I-I’m… I’m here… I’m n-no-not cr-crazy…”

“That’s right.” Derek soothed, rubbing circles on Spencer’s back. “You had a nightmare, that’s all.” 

“I h-ha-hate hospitals.” Spencer groaned, slumping into the pillows. Well, that was a change of subject if Derek ever heard one.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, remember? Taking vacation time at Rossi’s mansion.”

“I-I know.” Spencer reached up to rub his eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Hey, none of that.” Derek scowled playfully. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Reid. None of this was your fault.”

“I kn- I know that.” Spencer sighed, glaring at the ceiling. “I-I jus- I just wish it d-didn’t hurt everyone I-I-I care about wh- when I get hurt. I w-want… I want to help y-you feel better, but I-I-I-I can’t!”

“Maybe so,” Derek frowned. “But I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

“What do- what do you mean?” Spencer looked guilty, apparently not up to faking confusion at the moment.

“It’s okay to be angry, kid,” Derek said gently. Spencer hesitated, then looked away. 

Yeah, Derek knew exactly what this was about. The guilt for being taken care of would come later - maybe tomorrow or the next day. Right now, the kid probably felt awful for being so mad at his friends. Even if the anger was justified, that’s just how Reid was.

“They broke protocol in a big way, and they put everyone in our lives at risk.” Derek continued, gently taking Spencer’s hand. Spencer looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “We’re all angry. Me, Rossi, Hotch. Man, you should be happy you weren’t there when Garcia found out about what they did.”

Spencer snorted, offering a tired smile. 

“You’re allowed to be angry, Reid. You don’t need to get over this in a few days. You don’t ever have to get over this if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I do.” Spencer finally responded, brow furrowed.

“What?”

“I-I… I have to stop be-being mad so… so I can s-see her again.” Spencer whispered, looking away when tears formed in his eyes. 

Derek sighed, understanding dawning on him. Right. Emily. She and Spencer were close before her… ‘death’. He’d taken it hard, and that wasn’t going to change because of this. He hadn’t seen the kid even look at Emily when she was here, and now he’d requested they don’t come back.

“You don’t want your reunion with her to be negative.” 

“Wh- hey! Wh-what happened to n-not profiling the team?” Spencer complained, brushing tears away to glare at him.

“Kid, you… you’re gonna be profiled a bit after all this.” Derek protested. “It’s what we do - you always shut us out, how are we supposed to help if we don’t profile you a little bit?” Spencer scowled, messing with the blanket on his bed.

“...I won’t say you’re wrong.”

“Get some rest, kid.” Derek ruffled his hair a bit, and Spencer swatted his hands away.

“A-A-alright, alright. I’m g-going back to sleep.” Spencer lay down, meeting Derek’s gaze before dramatically closing his eyes. Derek chuckled, leaning back in his chair. The kid sure was something else.

* * *

Spencer shifted slightly, watching Hotch as he waited for the other to say something. He’d wanted to talk before Spencer headed to Rossi’s place. Hotch glanced at his hands, then back up at Spencer.

“How are you feeling?”

“I-I’ve been better,” Spencer said honestly, offering a crooked smile. “But you k-kn-know I’ve been worse, too.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before all of this.” 

Spencer blinked in surprise. Man, he was really just getting to the point. Everyone else seemed eager to ignore everything that happened. It was refreshing.

“I… I un-understand why you did- why you did it.” Spencer said softly. “I-I’m… I’m hurt, yeah, but… I-I-I understand.”

“The fewer people who knew, the less likely it was that Doyle would find out. And in the event he found out, it was intended to keep you all safe.” Hotch continued softly. “We’re taking the breach of security very seriously, Spencer.”

“H-he thought she was alive b-be-before he even… before he started watch-watching us,” Spencer said, furrowing his eyebrows. “H-Hotch… Doyle was an ex-extremely… extremely skilled and w-well… well-trained t-t-te-terrorist. T-trained not to… not to get attached to p-people.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I could… I could tell he-he’d had so-some kind of psychotic b-break ov-over the fact he didn’t wa-watch her die.” Spencer whispered, grimacing as he reflected back on Doyle’s behavior. “Th-that’s why it t-took me so long t-to… to realize he was r-ri-right.”

“That doesn’t excuse what happened.”

“O-of course not.” Spencer scoffed, feeling annoyance well up inside him again when he thought about the secrets JJ had kept from the team. It wasn’t just that she’d been in contact with Emily. It was that even after he’d been taken, neither of them came clean about it. 

“You’re on paid medical leave,” Hotch said, changing the subject. Spencer nodded. “The director wanted me to tell you he understood if you no longer want to be a field agent.” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “A week of torture isn’t good for anyone. You’ll have a lot of options once you recover, but we can discuss that later.”

“I… I’m-” Spencer shook his head. “I w-want to st-stay with the BAU.” Hotch smiled slightly, nodding.

“I know you do. Just focus on recovering, Reid.” Hotch stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. “Alright?”

Spencer met his gaze for just a moment, recognizing the deep emotional turmoil that his boss worked so hard to hide, but could never quite fully conceal.

“Y-yeah.” He smiled again, aware that Hotch knew it was forced. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhh my poor baby boy why do I hurt him in this wayyyyyy 
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have been excited to see some consequences... well this chapter's chock full of them lmao.
> 
> Warnings: PTSD, hospital, injuries, torture mentions, angst.

Derek glanced down at his phone, groaning in annoyance when he saw Will LaMantagne’s contact picture. He hadn’t been answering JJ’s calls, but apparently, that wasn’t a clear enough message.

“Do you really think using this phone will make me wanna talk to you?” he asked as soon as he answered.

“Morgan?” oh, it was actually Will. 

“Ah, sorry.” Derek frowned curiously. Why would Will call him? They had each other's numbers for emergencies. “Why… what’s up?”

“Henry’s been askin’ about his Uncle Spence,” Will said with a soft laugh. “Sorry, I know there’s a lot going on but I thought I’d see how he’s doing?”

“He’ll live,” Derek said shortly. “How much have you heard?”

“I know enough,” Will said hesitantly. “I didn’t know about her and Prentiss, Morgan. I thought she was dead too.”

“I know he’ll probably wanna see Henry again,” Derek said, frowning a bit. “But I’m not sure about JJ. It’s… it’s not good.”

“Me ‘n Henry are staying at a hotel, actually.”

Derek blinked in surprise.

“Are you guys okay?”

“It’s a long story.” Will sighed. “But we promised when we had Henry that we’d keep work at work as much as possible. There’s always some risk, yeah, but… this wasn’t unavoidable.”

“I’m sorry, man.” Derek rubbed his eyes, not sure if he felt bad for JJ or not. From what he was hearing, Will had been the one to decide on taking Henry somewhere else. 

“I’m glad Reid’s gonna be okay, that’s all,” Will said, though Derek could tell he had a lot more than that on his mind. “And he doesn’t have to see Henry if he doesn’t want to, I can handle a little disappointment from the kiddo.”

“Nah, I’m sure he’ll be up for it.” Derek glanced at the door to Spencer’s room, where the kid was talking to Hotch. “He loves Henry a lot.” 

“Just… keep me posted?” Will sounded exhausted. He probably was, taking care of Henry without JJ’s help.

“Yeah, of course.” Derek agreed immediately. “Let me know if I can help you in any way.”

“I’m fine, you focus on your boy, I’ll focus on mine.” Will chuckled slightly. Then he paused, and Derek heard Henry babbling in the background. “I gotta go, Morgan. If he’s up to it, tell Spence that we say hi.”

“Will do.” Derek smiled, tucking his phone away when Will hung up. Just about then, the door opened and Hotch stepped out, meeting Derek’s gaze. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s ready to leave.” Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how he is with hospitals.” Derek nodded.

“Rossi will be here in a few minutes to pick us up.” He reminded the other. “And then we’ll be good to get Reid set up in a guest room at his house. They’re getting a list of stuff from his apartment now.”

“Good.” Hotch checked something on his phone and frowned. “I have a meeting with Strauss and the Director, let me know how he’s doing when you get to Rossi’s?”

“Yeah, of course.” Derek nodded, watching Hotch walk away for a few moments before ducking back into Spencer’s room. Once he saw the kid, Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“Wh- o-oh. Hey, Derek.” Spencer smiled innocently, sitting carefully back on the bed from where he’d precariously been balancing on his good leg, holding onto the wall.

“Reid, you gotta take it easy.”

“I-I am taking it e-ea-easy!” Spencer claimed, eyes wide. “I-I’ve been lay-lying down for like… five d-day-days!”

“You have a broken leg, you can’t just stand up!”

“I didn’t put any weight on it, it’s fine.” Spencer scoffed.

“Sorry,  _ Dr. Reid.” _ Derek rolled his eyes. “But a ‘second opinion’ won’t get you outta this one. You need to heal correctly if you wanna stay a field agent.”

“...r-right.” 

Derek blinked in surprise at the change in demeanor. Spencer avoided his eyes, shoulders hunched slightly, and his hands had curled into fists slightly hidden by the hospital blankets. This wasn’t just Spencer admitting he’d been wrong… this was something else. Something in what Derek had said… it hurt the kid somehow. 

“I’m sorry.” Derek sighed, sitting on his chair. “I just worry about you, pretty boy.”

“N-nah, I-I know.” Spencer forced a laugh, still not looking at him. “S-s-sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Derek had no idea what had caused this, and he didn’t know how to fix it. “Spencer, look at me.” Spencer grudgingly lifted his head, though his eyes darted away from Morgan every few seconds. “You’ve got this.”

* * *

“Based on our investigation, we’ve found that Agent Jareau broke protocol in a variety of ways, and did indeed interfere with a federal investigation in such a way that it put the lives of several people, including Dr. Reid, at risk.” 

Hotch nodded, folding his hands together as he avoided looking sideways, to where JJ was sitting.

“Our investigation into Agent Prentiss hasn’t been completed yet, but it has been determined that addressing Jareau’s actions in any way could have put her and others at more risk.”

Interesting. Hotch was going to look into that more.

“Miss Jareau, you understand what we can charge you with based on this?”

“Yes.” 

“You’ve been officially terminated from the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Your continued employment in the FBI will be scrutinized, and you’ll be reassigned or terminated once it’s determined what risk you pose to yourself or others…”

The meeting was wrapped up officially, without much discussion of the decision. JJ didn’t attempt to defend herself, only accepting the consequences for her actions. Hotch was conflicted, though he agreed with what had to be done. JJ was a close friend, but that trust had been betrayed too deeply for him to feel safe having her on the team again.

“Hotch.” in the hallway after the meeting, Hotch turned to see Jennifer looking at him, teary-eyed. “I’m sorry.”

He just pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'm having a ton of fun writing this fic lmao I'm glad you all like it so much!
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Jason


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new chapter! Wanted to post it before DND today lol so I didn't keep y'all waiting.
> 
> Warnings: PTSD, nightmares, slight self-deprecation, angst

“Th-thanks for… for letting me stay here,” Spencer mumbled, embarrassed as he watched Penelope unpack his clothes into the dresser in Rossi’s spare room.

“It’s really no trouble.” Rossi shook his head. “Besides, I’m letting Morgan stay too, which could be considered the greater sacrifice.”

“Hey, I can hear you!”

“What are you going to do about it? This is my house.”

“Oh, this is going to be interesting.” Garcia chuckled, sitting on the bed next to Spencer. “How long do you think it’ll take them to kill each other?”

“I-I say…” Spencer paused, thinking it over. “A week and a- and a half. Tops.”

“Glad to hear you have so much faith in us, pretty boy.” Derek leaned on the door frame, arms folded. “I’ll have you know that I can get along with anyone if I try hard enough.”

“Ah, yeah, I’m sure you can.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “Once you’re done making fun of each other, we should have lunch.”

“You cooking?”

“I will if you let me out of this room.”

Spencer watched in amusement as Derek stepped out, continuing to bicker playfully as he went with Rossi to the kitchen. Yeah, this was definitely going to be interesting.

“So how are you?” Garcia asked, once their voices had faded away. Spencer looked over, surprised.

“Hm?”

“Come on, you can’t lie to me.” Garcia elbowed him, smiling playfully. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“Th-the average human mind g-gen-generates fifty thousand to s-seventy thousand thoughts ev-every day,” Spencer informed her. “You can c-count to seven i-i-in the span of one second.”

“And you’re dodging my question.” Penelope gently booped Spencer’s nose, and he laughed.

“I-I’m fine, Pen.” he lied softly. Garcia just looked at him. “I-I mean… phy-physically, it could ha-have been a lot worse.” 

“Yeah, well, your brain is part of your body. So it’s physical. So, talk to me.” 

“I-I…” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t k-know. I don’t… I don’t like b-being this angry.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Garcia teared up, wrapping him in one of her classic ‘Garcia hugs’. “You’re a good person, Reid. It’s not in your nature to be angry for very long. That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. You’re allowed to feel betrayed. We all do, and we weren’t even the ones who got hurt.”

“Y-yeah, you did.” Spencer scowled. ‘I-it hurts all of us wh-when one of us gets hu-hurt.”

“You know what I mean.” Garcia scoffed. “It’s okay to be angry.”

“Y-yeah, so I’ve heard,” Spencer grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He was getting a migraine. “B-but… I still… I miss her.” the last part came out as barely a whisper, but he knew Garcia heard it. Her face fell, and she held one of Spencer’s hands tightly.

“You can see Emily or JJ whenever you decide you want to.” She said softly. “I… I’m still really mad at them, but… I’ll make it happen whether those boys out there want it to or not. Okay?”

“I-I don’t know…” Spencer felt sick at the idea of seeing JJ, knowing she’d try to ignore everything that happened and go back to before. He knew by now he’d never trust her the same way again, and he knew he didn’t want to see her for a long time. “Em-Emily…”

“Want me to set something up?” Garcia asked softly. Spencer shook his head.

“N-not… not yet.” it hurt him to say that, but he knew he couldn't handle that right now. “S-s-soon.”

“I’ve got your back, boy wonder.” Garcia hugged him again, ruffling his hair. Spencer nodded silently. “Now let’s go see what Rossi’s making for lunch, yeah? I’ll help you into the wheelchair.”

“Garcia…” Spencer brushed tears from his friend's face, and Garcia offered a watery smile. “Thank you.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

* * *

Spencer knew he was dreaming… he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this wasn’t real.

But god… it felt real.

“She’ll be here soon enough, Dr. Reid,” Doyle said, tracing a knife across his throat. “And then she’ll watch you die, and then she’ll die. And I’ll finally be finished.”

“N-no, she won’t.” Spencer closed his eyes, already resigning himself to death. “Sh-she’s already dead…”

“Spencer?” his eyes shot open, and he stared in shock at the woman sitting across from him, tied to a chair the same way he was. What? No, that was impossible. Emily was dead!

“Wh-what…”

“I’m so sorry, Spence.” Emily looked behind him, to where Spencer knew Doyle was standing. “I should never have lied to you.”

“E-E-Emily, It’s-” Spencer’s voice fell short when Doyle slashed the knife across his neck, severing almost everything. He watched the blood spatter onto Emily’s face, felt the life drain from his body… and he heard Emily screaming. 

No… no, she should never have come to make a deal with Doyle. She should have known it was a trap, that he’d just kill them both! How was she even alive, anyway? It didn’t make any sense - she’d been buried. She was dead. She was-

He didn’t want to die. He wanted to do things, he didn’t want this. He didn’t sign up for this. He didn’t want to die.

“Spencer, Spencer kid you gotta wake up.”

Spencer’s eyes flew open and he stared up at Derek’s face, confused just for a moment before he remembered everything that had happened.

He was alive. Emily was alive. Doyle was dead. He was fine. 

“Reid, you with me?”

“Y-yeah.” Spencer sat up, still gripping Derek’s hand like a lifeline. His heart was pounding, and he couldn't get the sound of Emily screaming from his head. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. She was fine. 

“You’re okay, man. You know I’d never let you die, right?” it occurred to Spencer that he might have been speaking in his sleep, and he wondered how much Derek heard. “Reid?”

“Y-yeah. I-I know.” He needed to see Emily, whether he was ready for it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof my poor baby boy why do I do this
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh y'all have been waiting for this one... the one where Spencer and Emily finally talk. 0_0
> 
> Warnings: torture mentions, injury, ptsd, anger, death mentions, faked death mentions

Spencer stared critically over at the chair Emily was sitting in. She seemed apprehensive, and he was pretty sure either Morgan or Garcia or both had threatened her not to do anything to upset him. He appreciated the effort, but he was upset already.

“Hi.” Emily smiled weakly, wringing her hands in her lap. Hearing her voice felt like a wave of relief crashing over him. She hadn’t spoken back in the hospital, and part of him had wondered if he really was hallucinating all of this. Really, logically, Spencer knew he wasn’t. But hearing her helped. 

“You’re alive,” he said softly. Emily nodded.

“I… wanted to tell you.” She said. “Every single day, I wanted you to know… I swear, Spencer. I wanted to tell you.”

“I…” Spencer’s mouth dried and he closed it, looking at the floor. He had so many emotions about this… how was he supposed to respond to that? “I would have d-died for you.”

“Oh, god, I never wanted that.”

“I-I mean…” Spencer grimaced, annoyed by the stutter. He wanted to be able to say this! “I-I’d… I’m not… I’d h-ha-have died t-to keep you safe. On purpose.” looking back up at Emily’s devastated expression, Spencer wasn’t sure if that had been the right thing to say. 

“By the time I woke up after surgery, you’d already been told I was dead. I wanted to tell the team, Spence. But I just…” She shook her head, and Spencer felt awful. Why was he so bad at explaining what he meant in this kind of situation?

“Y-you’re not un-understanding me.” Spencer insisted, forcefully making eye contact with her. She stared back, and it still hurt to know she’d been alive all this time. “I-I’d rather h-he t-t-tortured someone wh-who couldn't tell him ei-either way.”

“What, you’re saying you’re glad this happened?” 

“N-n-no, of course not.” Spencer scowled, idly brushing his fingers over his chest. “B-but it ha-ha-happened.”

“It shouldn’t have.” 

“N-not your fault.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“I should’ve told Hotch about JJ.”

“...y-yeah.” Spencer’s shoulders fell, and he looked away. 

“Reid, I’m sorry. I know this… I know you can’t trust me right now and I don’t expect you to.” 

He always had trusted her to be honest with him, and that hadn’t ended well. He’d have a hard time trusting anyone for awhile.

“I just want you to be okay,” Emily said softly. Spencer looked back at her, surprised to see tears in her eyes. She wasn’t very emotional, usually. 

“I w-w-will be.”

“Spencer.” Emily’s voice was more intense than Spencer had probably ever heard it. He frowned, confused.

“Wh-what?”

“Please, don't you ever die for me.” Spencer frowned again, trying to decipher the surge of emotion he felt in response to that request. After a moment, he shook his head.

“I-I can’t promise you that.”

* * *

“I don’t know, Hotch.” Derek stared at his hands, not up at the man in front of him. “We’re a team. We need to trust each other. You know that.”

“It wasn’t a matter of trust,” Hotch said softly. “It was a matter of national security, and we weren’t given much leeway. I know you understand that.”

“When he first disappeared…” Derek grimaced. “We wondered about active cases. Neither of you brought up the fact that our team could still be a target.”

“We had no way of knowing it was about Emily. Distracting everyone at that point would have been disastrous if it hadn’t been Doyle.”

“But it was Doyle!”

“We didn’t know that until he told us so,” Hotch said firmly. “I know you’re angry, Morgan. You have every right to feel betrayed, but I need to know that I can still count on you, at least on a professional level.”

“Yeah,” Derek laughed, rolling his eyes. “We’re still friends, Hotch. I’m mad, but the kid’s safe. I’ll be mad for a while, but mostly at Doyle. And…” and Jennifer. God, he’d once trusted that woman with his life. And she’d withheld information that could have rescued Spencer sooner. 

“I know.” Hotch sighed, rubbing his eyes. “If I’d had any idea that they’d been in contact… I’d have reported it on the spot. You know that.”

“Yeah.” Derek sighed heavily. “I do. I respect you, Hotch. I know you’re trying hard, but you understand how hard it is when it’s one of our own.”

“They’ve been talking for a while,” Hotch noted, glancing over at the door to a lounge in Rossi’s house. Spencer was having a hard time staying in his room, and he’d been doing well enough that they set him up in the library space. That’s where he was talking to Emily. Alone, despite Morgan’s protests.

“Got a lot to talk about, I guess.” Morgan shrugged. “He was really messed up by her death, Hotch. And then all this, and he finds out she’s alive because some madman told him. Not from her. That’s gotta sting.”

“We have a few more weeks of time off,” Hotch said, and Derek frowned at the sudden change of subject. “The director wants me to find a replacement on the team sooner rather than later.”

“Replacement?” Derek scowled. “You gotta know the kid still wants to be on the team! It’s all he can talk about, half the time. Getting better to go out and help people.”

“Not for Reid.” Hotch winced. “For JJ. She was terminated.”

“Oh.” Derek blinked a few times. He’d been trying so hard not to think about what JJ had done, he’d forgotten there would be definite consequences. “From the bureau?”

“The BAU, at least. They’re still considering options.” Hotch shook his head. “It’s not looking good, but I can’t say I blame them.”

“Me neither.” Derek scowled, glaring at the floor.

“But I want you to help me look over candidates,” Hotch said, drawing Derek’s attention back to the topic. “I trust you, and I know you’ll all feel better if the decision is made by someone other than just me. At least after all this.”

“We all still trust you,” Derek said softly, though he wondered if it were true.

“Not as much. And that’s okay.” Hotch smiled sadly. “Will you help me or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll help.” Derek rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. “Just give me a bit to make sure pretty boy’s okay, and I’ll get back to the office when I can.”

“Take your time, we’ve been given a lot of it.” Hotch glanced toward the door, the worry showing through. “This was hard on all of us.”

“Yeah.” Derek’s spirits fell when he thought of the man in the other room, tortured for information he had no way of knowing. Part of him wished Doyle wasn’t dead, because he wanted that man to hurt as much as Spencer had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did well? I wanted to portray it as accurately as possible for the characters and I think I did okay! I really hope I did T-T
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Nub


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post this before going to therapy lol sorry about that!
> 
> Warnings: torture mentions, ptsd, addiction mention, drug cravings, angst, slight self-deprecation, etc.

“Oh my god…” Spencer winced at Penelope’s gasp. He knew it wasn’t pretty… that was one reason he’d tried to get her to let him change the bandages himself.

“Th-th-they’re healing well.” he reminded her, looking in the mirror at the brands on his chest. A clover, and seven tally marks. It was mostly scar tissue, now. “It’s o- it’s okay.”

“Spence…”

“It’s okay.” He said, firmly, shaking her out of her shock enough to finish what she was doing and throw the old bandages away. “N-no… nobody ever sees my ch-chest anyway.”

“You do.”

“I-I’ll be fine.” Spencer smiled winningly, and Garcia sighed, patting his cheek. “Come on, Pen. You th-think I care a-about a few more scars?” the stutter was getting better, too. It wasn’t as hard to string two words together anymore. After just a week of being out of the hospital, Spencer was feeling a lot more optimistic about returning to the field. As soon as he could get around on crutches, he’d be bothering Hotch about it.

“Well, I’m still going to spoil you rotten while I can.” Penelope re-dressed the wound, putting the last set of bandages over the burns. “We’re watching Doctor Who tonight after family dinner on Rossi’s giant TV.”

“Does he know th-that?”

“He’s a sappy old man, he’ll let us do whatever we want.”

“Right.” Spencer snorted, shrugging a button-up shirt back on. “Don’t l-let him hear you say th-that.”

“Rossi doesn’t scare me!” Penelope protested dramatically, turning around just as Rossi poked his head in. “O-Oh! Hi!” Spencer laughed, even though it hurt his ribs.

“Hello, Penelope.” Rossi nodded in an overly professional way, as dramatic as ever. “Dr. Reid.” he did the same when he turned to Spencer, though Spencer couldn't help but freeze up as he tried to button his shirt.

_ “Comfortable, Dr. Reid?” _

Doyle was dead. Spencer knew that. There was no reason to feel threatened when someone addressed him formally. He was fine.

_ “Tell me again, about Agent Prentiss being dead.” _

She wasn’t dead, she’d faked it to keep herself and the team safe. He knew that now. He was fine. He was fine he was fine he was fine he was-

“Spencer!”

Spencer’s head jerked upright and he stared at Rossi in surprise. Garcia was gone, and Rossi was holding his arms gently, staring at him in concern. Oh. He hadn’t meant to zone out that much. 

“R-right. Sorry.” he shook his head, hoping to banish the developing headache. “What’s up?” Rossi frowned suspiciously. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m f-fine.” Shit, he said that too quickly. Rossi obviously didn’t believe him.

“Right. Well, team dinner’s starting soon. Hotch, Jack, and Emily are on their way, you still okay with this?”

“Of course, why w-wou-wouldn’t I be?” Spencer finished buttoning his shirt, then let Rossi help him into the wheelchair. Soon enough, he’d be fine to do things on his own and he could move back to his apartment. 

“Well, you’ve put so much emphasis on your physical recovery and refuse to talk about what’s going on up in your head,” Rossi said gently. Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but Rossi cut him off. “Not about Emily, Reid. I know you’re working through what happened with Emily.”

“I-I don’t…”

“You were tortured, kid.” Rossi shook his head. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, but I know you need to talk to somebody.”

“I’m f-fi-fine.”

“Kid-”

“I-I’ve gotten hurt before, Rossi!” Spencer snapped, slamming his fist down on his uninjured leg. Rossi’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Y-you think I can’t ha-han-handle a few broken ribs? O-or burns? I’m fine! A-as soon as I’m able, I’ll g-go back to work, an-and everything will… everything will go back t-to normal! Alright?” 

“That’s easier said than done, Reid.”

“I-I’m…” Spencer groaned, rubbing his face as the pain in his head worsened. He didn’t want to think about this. Thinking about it only made the headaches worse. “We’re not… we’re not gonna talk a-about this right now. Please, Rossi.”

“Alright.” Rossi sighed, gently pushing the wheelchair forward. “Let’s go have some fun with the family, yeah?”

“S-sou-sounds great.” Spencer tried his best to keep the annoyed tone from his voice, but he knew Rossi could hear it. He wished everyone could just… stop. Stop thinking he wanted to talk about it. Stop bringing it up.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to forget it ever happened. He wanted to be able to close his eyes, and drift into that peaceful-

No. No, wait. No, he didn’t want that. Spencer closed his eyes, rubbing his temple when a spike of pain went through it. He didn’t want the peacefulness, he didn’t want to forget. 

He didn’t want Dilaudid. 

But oh, how his brain disagreed with him on that.

He’d been wanting it since Emily supposedly died… but he’d held off. He’d visited JJ because she could always comfort him. JJ… she kept information that could have helped him a secret for her own self-interest. He wanted to forget that. 

He wanted to forget about going to Emily’s funeral. He wanted to forget about waking up in another room, tied to another chair. He wanted to forget about Doyle’s voice saying his name, addressing him only with his title of Doctor. He wanted to forget about everything that happened in the last six months. 

“Ah, there he is.” Spencer opened his eyes and smiled like always when he and Rossi arrived in the dining room. “How ya feeling, pretty boy?”

“I-I’m feeling pretty good.” The lie came easily, as his headache reached ridiculous limits and his mind begged him for the one thing he knew he could never give it. No one questioned him, though he knew none of them believed it, and Spencer wanted to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, you guys for giving this so much love!! I'm super happy with this work and you've all made it an even better experience just by enjoying it!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh god I'm so sorry I missed two days just shit hit the fannnnn cuz I had a migraine for like a whole day and then my younger siblings finally got adopted so I was with my familyyyyy but hey! I'm posting now! ^-^
> 
> Warnings: ptsd, flashbacks, injuries, torture mention, drug addiction, drug craving, self-deprecation, angst.

Spencer winced, leaning on the bathroom sink as he held his injured leg up to keep from putting weight on it. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking. God, he just wanted to stop thinking, for once.

Spencer clumsily unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it to the side to look at the tally marks branded into his skin. They were healed, now. The scars would fade a bit more over time, but… Doyle knew what he was doing. Even if he’d planned on killing Spencer, he didn’t do things halfway. That’s what caused him to crack when he didn’t get to watch Emily die, and when he found out she was still alive.

He stared at his reflection, running a finger gently over the bumpy scars. 

_ “Do you think I’ve overestimated your friendship? She hasn’t come for you.” _

Spencer’s eyes trailed to the other side of his chest, the clover that Doyle claimed matched one he’d given Emily. Spencer hadn’t had the heart to ask her, faced with the devastated look on his friend's face when she looked at him. 

_ “I’ll give them your body first, and your head last. How long do you think you can live without a head?” _

“F-fifteen to twenty se-seconds.” Spencer whispered, swallowing thickly. God, why did he remember everything? Sometimes he wished he didn’t have an eidetic memory.

_ “All I had to do was threaten you, and she had nothing left.” _

“St-stop.” Spencer whined pathetically, pressing one hand to his forehead as if that would stop the memories from surfacing. 

_ “Don’t try and trick me, Doctor.” _

“I-I’m… I’m not.” Spencer slowly sank to the floor, eyes shut tightly, shaking his head. “I’m… sh-she’s… st-stop. Please.”

_ “You really should think of something new to say.” _

Spencer held back a sob, pressing himself into the corner of the bathroom, his broken leg stretched out awkwardly in it's cast. He hated this. Why couldn't he just forget? He wanted to forget the sound of Ian Doyle’s voice in his ears, taunting him and demanding answers. He was a psychopath having a mental break, he didn’t know what he was talking about. 

But he did. 

_ “Tell me again, about Agent Prentiss being dead.” _

God, Spencer just wanted to forget.

* * *

“Hey, Reid?” Derek knocked quickly, then cracked the door open. To his surprise, Spencer wasn’t in bed. The blankets were messy as if he’d gotten up and never lay back down. “Reid?” Derek stepped fully inside, looking around. 

In a moment of pure terror, he thought Spencer had disappeared yet again.

Then, he heard a soft sound from the attached bathroom. It sounded like… 

“Spencer?” Derek walked carefully over, pushing the bathroom door open enough to see inside. Sure enough, Spencer had crammed himself as tightly as possible into the corner. It broke Derek’s heart, seeing Spencer sitting with his hands over his ears, face wet with tears as he whispered pleas to himself.

“St-stop. Please… please… I’m s-sorry… I’m sorry, Please…”

“Hey, hey now.” Derek knelt down, gently taking Spencer's wrists and pulling his hands from his ears. Spencer flinched, not opening his eyes. “You with me, kid?”

“N-no… I-I’m not cr-crazy. I’m not crazy.” Spencer shook his head, trying to pull his arms from Derek’s grip. “I-I’m… I’m not a sinner, I’m not crazy… I don’t… I don’t know wh-where she is. P-please stop… god, please…”

Fuck, how long had he been in here like this? Derek glanced down, feeling ill at the sight of scratches on Spencer’s arm, over old track marks. 

“Spencer, hey, pretty boy.” Derek tried desperately. “I need you to focus on me right now, okay? We’re safe, we’re here in Rossi’s bathroom. Remember? I need you to focus, kid.”

“I don’t want it,” Spencer said, voice louder as he tugged against Derek’s hold on his arm. “St-stop! I-I don’t…”

“Okay.” Derek let go, understanding that the memories of Doyle and Hankel had gotten muddled. “Okay, kid. I won’t do anything, alright? I just need you to focus on my voice, can you do that?” Spencer’s voice quieted, and he wrapped his arms around himself. Still refusing to open his eyes. “You’re not crazy, kid. I promise. I’m here for you, it’s Wednesday. We’re sitting on the floor in the bathroom in Rossi’s house. You with me?”

“M-Morgan…?”

“Yeah, kid. It’s just me.” Derek watched as Spencer looked confused, then relieved. His eyes stayed closed. “I promise if you open your eyes, I’ll be here. You aren’t hearing things.”

“I-I…” Spencer winced, flinching back into the corner. “Fifteen to twenty sec-seconds.”

“What?”

“The idea of a human living through decapitation even for a few minutes has never been scientifically proven. At most, I would be conscious for fifteen or twenty seconds.”

Derek felt his blood turn to ice, just like it had back in the warehouse they found Doyle in. Whatever it was Spencer was reliving… it wasn’t something Derek had known about.

“You aren’t gonna be decapitated, kid.”

“Morgan?”

“Still here, like I said.” Derek forced a soft laugh. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy.” Spencer nodded, one hand reaching up to tug at his hair. Derek watched him worriedly, not sure what he needed to do to help.

“D-Derek…” Spencer’s voice cracked and his eyes fluttered open, though he stared at the floor. “I… I need to…”

“You’re gonna be okay, kid. I promise.” Derek gently reached for Spencer’s hand, stopping him from scratching himself again.

“I need to see a movie,” Spencer whispered, slowly making his way into Derek’s open embrace. Derek nodded, hugging him as tightly as he could without worrying about Spencer’s broken ribs. 

“I’ll get you there, kid.” He’d been worried about this. About Spencer getting cravings again. But this… this might be worse than he thought. And he had no idea how to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH my poor boy why do I do this to him why can't I just be a fluff writer? lol it's probably the spicy trauma actually
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Rex


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one is mostly fluff but y'all know there will be more angst later on lmao 
> 
> I think I might be close to finishing this! wild
> 
> Warnings: angst, drug addiction, self-deprecation, torture mention, etc.

“Hello, m-my name is Spencer.” Spencer stared at his knees, feeling almost humiliated to be here in a wheelchair. He knew he couldn't walk, but… still. “I-I’m addicted to Dilaudid, b-but I’ve been clean for al-almost four years. U-um… b-because of my job I w-was… I’ve experienced some th-things that… I’d p-prefer to forget. Recently it’s… Recently it’s been get-getting bad again.”

As always, the crippling judgment never came. These meetings… they always helped to remind him that not everyone saw him as weak. That he wasn’t weak. Derek had agreed to wait outside, and Spencer was glad. This was a part of him he’d hoped he could hide, even though he knew most of the team was aware he struggled. 

At the end, when Spencer met with Derek just outside the doors, he was tired. In a lot of ways.

“How ya feeling?”

“It's…” Spencer shrugged, letting Derek take over pushing the wheelchair. “It helped.” it always did. He’d go again next week, at least. He had a schedule for this group now, one his sponsor had sent him after he called.

“You know you can talk to me,” Derek said once they were in his car, driving back to Rossi’s mansion. Spencer nodded absently. “Reid.”

“I-I know I can,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“So do it. Talk to me.”

“A-about what?” Spencer groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I’m t-tired, Derek. I don’t want… I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You can talk about whatever it is you want to talk about, then.” Derek shrugged. “You haven’t recited any novels recently.”

“I don’t recite n-novels.” Spencer pointed out. “I-I’m usually stating statistics or facts. S-sometimes quotes from books pert-pertain to the case, but usually-”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” Derek laughed. Spencer rolled his eyes. “I just miss hearing your nerdy little voice, that’s all.”

“R-right.” Spencer chuckled. “Okay… did y-you know that all people with b-blue eyes are descended fr-from the same s-singular person wh-who had a mutation, centuries ago?”

“I know it now.” 

“I-it’s likely that this person live-lived near the dead sea.” Spencer continued. “And th-they were probably female.”

“Where the heck do you learn this stuff?” Derek asked, laughing.

“I w-was just born with all knowledge.” 

“Oh, right. Of course.”

“Wikipedia.”

“Ahhh of course.” 

Spencer smiled, letting himself relax. This is what he’d been missing, this normalcy. He wanted everything to go back to how it had been before, even just for a second. He could imagine he’d never been kidnapped, or even that Doyle had never escaped from prison in the first place.

But just for a moment. Reality was always looming in the background, waiting for Spencer to accept it. It was funny, really. Spencer used to lean on reality so much, obsessing over it to ensure he didn’t lose touch. And now, he desperately wished to escape it.

* * *

“Reid.” David got Spencer’s attention when he entered the room, chess set in hand. Reid looked up from the book in his hands. It was opened to the same place it had been when Rossi left ten minutes ago.

“Oh, h-hey Rossi.” Spencer seemed confused when David sat across from him, pulling out the chessboard and setting it up. “What are… what are you doing?”

“I’ve been meaning to play chess with you for a while now,” Rossi shrugged. “And we’ve got a week and a half of time to kill before I go back to work.” Spencer immediately seemed interested, looking down at the chessboard.

“A-are you sure?” He grimaced slightly. “I-I’m not great company right now…”

“Of course I’m sure.” David smiled, and Spencer put the book aside, leaning forward. “Would you like to start?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Reid moved a piece anyway, eyebrows furrowing in concentration like they always did. Rossi smiled, going through a few rounds before speaking again.

“You know, you don’t always have to do everything by yourself.” 

“What?” Reid looked up at him, surprised. Rossi shrugged, taking his turn.

“I get it, you want people to know you’re capable of doing things. That you’re not just ‘a kid’. Right?”

“...I guess so.” Spencer looked at him suspiciously but took his turn anyway. “Why do you bring this up?”

“I know I call you kid, but that doesn’t mean I think you’re immature or inexperienced.” Rossi continued gently. “I can stop if you want me to. Everyone knows you’re strong. Probably stronger than you think you are.”

“What does that have t-to… what does that have to do with chess?”

“Gideon taught you how to play, right?”

“He… well, I knew the r-rules, but basically.”

“He got you to join the BAU, too. I remember him telling me about you. A genius young man who was a natural-born profiler. I thought he was crazy.” David paused, one hand on his chess piece, and looked up to meet Spencer’s gaze. “Now, I think the only crazy people are the ones who disregard you like that.”

“...thank you.” Spencer looked down at the chessboard again, and David responded by moving his piece.

“But like I said, you don’t have to do all this alone. Our team is a family, and we all want to support you. You just have to let us.”

“I am letting you,” Spencer whispered. “I’m… I agreed to st-stay here. I… I talked to Emily….”

“And I’m proud of you. A few years ago, I don’t think you’d have accepted our help this easily.” David acknowledged, tilting his head. “I also know that for your whole life, you were taking care of yourself without anyone else to support you.” Spencer looked up, almost as if he wanted to protest this statement, but David continued. “But you aren’t without support now, Spencer. You can fall back on us, and it doesn’t make you any less deserving of our love.”

Spencer didn’t respond, instead, he looked down at the chessboard and moved his knight, then looked back up at David.

“Check.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I loved this chapter. I loved writing it, and I love all the children who are actually grown adults older than me. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeee here's a new chapter y'all 
> 
> Warnings: ptsd, torture mentions, fake death mentions, self-deprecation, mental health issues, implied mental illness, implied suicidal ideation, implied depression, angst.

“Hey.” Emily winced at the voice that answered the phone. She could tell Spencer had definitely been crying - it was so raw and tired. It was probably good for him to be getting his emotions out, though.

“Hey, Spence.” She sighed, brushing her hair back. “It’s me.”

“I know.”

“I… I wanted to talk to you before the rest of the team found out.” Emily swallowed, staring adamantly at the wall while she waited for him to say something.

“Found… found out about what?” he sounded resigned - like he’d already figured out what was going to happen. Honestly, he might have. He was a genius, after all.

“They’re sending me back to Interpol.” She said softly. “I… I broke protocol, Spence. In a big way, and you got hurt. More than that, I put a lot more people at risk by failing to stop communication, and withholding information.”

“Yeah.” Spencer cleared his throat slightly. “Y-you did.”

“I know you haven’t forgiven JJ, and I really hope you haven’t forgiven me this easily.” Emily laughed sadly. “I hurt you, Reid. And I’m sorry. I want you to take as much time as you need to be angry at me, and I kinda wish you’d yell at me.”

“N-nah, yelling isn’t good for my r-ribs right now,” Spencer said dismissively. Emily chuckled.

“Alright, well, whenever you see me again you’ll probably be all healed up. I expect you to yell at me then.”

“Okay, I’ll keep th-that in mind.”

Emily winced, glad she was talking to him on the phone instead of in person. Just hearing his voice… how his brain had actually been damaged because of what she’d done… it made her feel worse than ever. It was a good thing they were sending her back.

“When are you leaving?”

“...tonight.” Emily paused, wondering if he’d react. He didn’t, at least not in words. “I would have told you sooner if I could, but I only just found out about it. The bureau wants this cleaned up as soon as possible.”

“Th-that makes… that makes sense.” a pause. “How long do we have to talk?”

Emily frowned in concern, checking her watch.

“I mean, my flight doesn’t leave for an hour. Why?”

“Emily…” worry grew into a sense of dread when Spencer lowered his voice slightly. “Do you ever j-just… do you ever feel em-em-empty? Like... like nothing matters? Like… i-i-if… if you d-d-died… nothing w-would be an-any different?”

“Spencer, where are you right now?” Emily fought the urge to stand up, leave the airport to go find him. That would only cause more problems.

“I’m… I-I’m at Rossi’s.” Spencer sounded offended. “I-It’s not… it’s not like that, Emily. I-I promise. I’d… it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Spence? Because from where I’m standing… that didn’t sound good at all.” On one hand, she really wanted to immediately tell Hotch or Morgan about this. But after the past few weeks… Spencer needed someone to talk to. The fact that he’d chosen her, after everything she’d done… she didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“R-Rossi’s been playing chess with me,” Spencer said softly. Emily blinked. She hadn’t really known what to expect, but it wasn’t that. “I-I… I didn’t know he p-played. G-Gideon taught him… apparently. U-Um… an-and he’s been talking to me. Ab-ab-about… about stuff.”

Oh, thank god. He was talking to someone other than Emily, who was about to leave the country for who knows how long.

“That’s good, Spence.”

“I-it’s just… got me th-think-thinking.” Spencer sighed softly. “M-maybe… I’ve never been as… as okay as I th-think I am. Uh… mental-health wise.”

“Okay…”

“But… th-they say the first st-step to getting better is… is admitting you h-ha-have a problem, right?” Spencer laughed weakly. “S-So… I… I’m gonna be okay. I-I’m… I’m seeing a th-therapist tomorrow… and I’m going to get back o-on my feet.”

“That’s good, Reid.” Emily felt like she might cry. That was possibly the most alive she’d heard Spencer be since… god, she didn’t even know. “I’m really, really glad.”

“I know I… I know I won’t be able to talk to you very often wh-when you’re at Interpol.” Spencer said, taking a few deep breaths. “B-but… I wanted you t-t-t-to have an idea of wh-what I’ll be up to.” Emily laughed.

“Well, you know what I’ll probably be up to. A lot of paperwork, maybe some good old fieldwork if they trust me enough.”

“Sounds fun.” Spencer paused, and Emily heard voices in the background. “Thanks for calling, E-Emily. I… I’m glad to h-hear this from you.”

“Take care, Spence.”

“Yeah, you too.” 

The line disconnected, and Emily closed her eyes. She really, really hoped Spencer was telling the truth about all that.

* * *

“I looked through your history, Doc-”

“Just Spencer is… is fine,” Spencer said quickly, not wanting to risk freaking out in the very first session. The therapist - a Dr. Coates - looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

“I was looking through your history, Spencer, and it says you’ve only ever attended therapy sessions when your work mandated it. Is that true?”

“Um, y-yeah.” Spencer shrugged. “Af-after a team member’s death… or a traumatic incident… th-they always require one or two s-so they know we’re s-safe to have in the field.”

“And you attended the bare minimum then, yes?” 

“It’s… not m-my favorite thing in the world. I… I don’t r-really like talk-talking about myself.” he explained, shrugging once again. “Why?”

“Spencer,” Dr. Coates leaned forward, then paused. As if he was trying to find a way to say what he was about to say in the least aggressive manner. “You’ve been through more trauma than many people would go through in several lifetimes. Yet most of it seems to be a footnote and hasn’t really been addressed. I know you’re a profiler, so it makes sense that you’d be able to get through most questionnaires without a problem.”

“Well… yeah.” Spencer looked away, feeling a bit guilty. Sure, he wasn’t the most honest in the psych evals he’d gone through, but everyone did that.

“I can only really help you if you’re completely honest with me, Spencer,” Coates said, waiting until Spencer met his eyes to continue. “Can you do that?”

“I…” Spencer hesitated, the words bouncing around inside his head. Completely honest. He could do that, right? He was honest all the time… but was he? About this? About himself? He wanted to do this right. He wanted to be better, and take better care of himself. “I-I can try.”

Dr. Coates smiled.

“That’s good enough for me. Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOp there it is. at least he's trying to figure himself out though, amiright?
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Nub


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed posting yesterday! I'm near the end, and I've started procrastinating writing the end because I don't want this experience to end, since you've all been so great!  
> Luckily, I have some more ideas in my brain palace that I'll be writing once this one is finished! So you can look forward to those!
> 
> Warnings: injuries, torture mentions, self-deprecation, death mentions, angst, and fluff!

“C-calm down, I’ve used c-crutches before.” Spencer rolled his eyes, ducking out of Morgan’s reach.

“Yeah, like, barely a year ago. How the hell is your leg still usable?”

“It w-was my other one.” Spencer pointed out, smacking Derek in the shins with a crutch.

“Hey! Ow!”

“I t-told you I’m fine.” Spencer shrugged, readjusting his grip. 

“Yeah, right, it’s only been a few weeks-”

“Twenty-five days. Approximately.” Spencer interrupted, earning a glare that turned into an amused smile. “My leg’s gonna b-be okay, Derek.”

“Yeah, I know.” Morgan sighed, rubbing his head anxiously. Spencer raised an eyebrow. “What? I’m not gonna apologize for worrying about you, kid. I’m here for you whether you want me or not.”

“How con- how considerate.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “B-but really. I’m only walk-walking to the kitchen, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll be here with you every step of the way no matter what.” Morgan insisted. Spencer laughed lightly as they made their way to Rossi’s kitchen, where he was starting to cook dinner for the gathering that night. 

Hotch, Garcia, Jack, Will, and Henry were all coming for family dinner. Spencer had to say he’d been surprised to hear everything that happened with JJ, and he really didn’t know how he felt about it. But he was still Henry’s godfather, and he wasn’t going to abandon the kid like that. 

“There he is!” Rossi said, dramatic as ever. “Up on those things already, are you?”

“It’s been twenty-five d-days.” Spencer said again, amused. “All- All things considered, th-the break was minor. The m-main issue was making sure it healed r-right, given the time between injury and treatment.” He made his way to a chair, leaning the crutches on the kitchen island beside him.

“Ah, you’re sounding like yourself again, too,” Rossi said, pretending to be disappointed. Probably pretending, at least. Spencer was pretty sure the man liked him, seeing as he’d invited Spencer to live here. 

“Aw, don’t be like that. You missed it as much as I did.” Derek said gruffly, leaning on the counter.

“Y-you better get used to it,” Spencer added. “As soon as H-Hotch lets me, I’ll be back at Quantico.”

“I’m sure you will be.” Derek messed up his hair and Spencer scowled, playfully slapping his hand away. “It won’t be the same without you, y’know.”

“It won’t b-be the same either way.” Spencer shrugged. “Th-there’s going to be two new people, r-right? Do you know who they are yet?”

“We’ve got the list narrowed down.” Derek shrugged. “A few more interviews, maybe some trial runs if we get a case this week.”

“Wh-who’s on the list?”

“You really don’t know how to take a break from work, do you, pretty boy?” 

“Derek, come on!” Spencer complained, shoulders slumping. “I haven’t talked ab-about work in like, f-forever!”

“Oh yeah?”

“F-fine, asides from right now it’s been n-nine days.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “B-but still!”

“Alright, alright.” Derek laughed. “We haven’t made a decision yet, so this information doesn’t leave here. Got it?” Spencer nodded. “We’ve got a few people to consider, there are some new recruits, we’re thinking about getting Seaver back on the team, and then there’s Matthew Simmons, and Dr. Alex Blake, she-”

“O-oh hey!” Spencer perked up. “I-I’ve guest lectured in her cl-classes!”

“I coulda sworn her name sounded familiar.” Derek chuckled. “There’s still a lot to be done but she, Seaver, and Simmons seem most promising. But I wouldn’t put it past Hotch to bring in some fresh eyes, either.”

“I-I’m sure you guys’ll make a good de-dec-decision.” Spencer sighed, absently tracing the scars on his chest through his shirt. 

He never had gotten the chance to ask Emily about what Doyle said, about the clover. Maybe they’d be able to see each other again, in a long time after everything settled down. Maybe not. Either way, things finally seemed to be on their way back to normal.

* * *

“I know it’s not something you’re excited to talk about,” Dr. Coates said. “But I really do think it’s important to look at your recent experience. Through the lens of improving your mental health.”

“Yeah.” Spencer sighed, looking at his hands. He’d known this was coming. He was going to try and continue meeting with Dr. Coates as a therapist even after he went back to work, but first, he had to show he was stable enough to even try.

“We don’t have to go into details,” Dr. Coates added. “I just want you to think of the first thing you can remember from it, and how you felt.”

“Alright…” Spencer hesitated. Completely honest. Not just facts, no statistics, just how he felt about the situation. “I-I mean… the first thing I thought when I woke up was that something was wr-wr-wrong. And… then I th-thought about how stupid it was I ev-even had to realize that.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” Spencer looked up, frowning. “Why what?”

“Why was it stupid to realize something was wrong?”

“B-because it was obvious,” Spencer said, spreading his hands in front of him. “O-obviously something’s wrong, b-because the last thing I could rem-remember was getting on the subway. Obviously, i-it wasn’t right.”

“Ah, yeah.” Dr. Coates nodded. “Alright, then what happened?”

“O-once he saw I was awake…” Spencer paused, hearing the echo of Doyle in his ears. “Once he saw I was awake, D-Doyle said we could d-do it one of two ways.”

“He wanted information.” Dr. Coates surmised. Spencer nodded. “And?”

“I… I still thought she was dead.” Spencer winced, rubbing his hands together. “There was no w-way I’d be able to t-talk him down, or… or get out of it. I felt… I felt helpless. I knew I was going to die.”

“But you didn’t die.” Dr. Coates said. “You’re still alive.” And though Spencer already knew that, it was strange to hear it in such a calm, matter of fact tone.

“Yeah.” he smiled, brushing a hand over his chest again. “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooop our boy is slowly but surely improving his mental health! hooray!  
> Two more chapters left!!! I'm so excited to have finished this, but I'm also sad to see it go! I hope y'all stick around for my later works in the CM fandom! <3
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter! Wooooo  
> I may or may not have just used an OC I'm planning for another fic as one of the new agents in this chapter.  
> But like. It's not the same one. Just. Just the same name and like mini backstory cuz you see him like once maybe again in the next chapter. When I do the fic I made him for it's like gonna be a whole thing so just ignore him tbh just pretend he isn't there
> 
> Warnings: slight angst, torture mention, scars, injuries, angst, fluff

Spencer frowned, scowling at his reflection once again. He’d been… better. Ish. He still wished he could just forget what happened, but the craving for Dilaudid was basically gone. Doyle’s voice still echoed in his mind every now and then - but then again, so did Tobias and Charles and Raphael. And dozens of other unsubs. He didn’t think that was ever going to go away. 

The scars… Spencer idly traced his fingers over them, his scowl deepening. They weren’t going away anytime soon, but they weren’t as bright red and inflamed as they had been. They were healed. His body was recovering.

Though, Dr. Coates would contest that his mind was part of his body, and its recovery was just as important as the broken bones and burns.

Spencer turned away from the mirror, buttoning his shirt again. Logically, he wasn’t sure why the scars had become a kind of touchstone for him. He consistently found himself tracing them through his shirt, or at least running a finger across to feel the elevated tissue. 

Maybe it was because, once his leg was better and he was back at work, they’d still be there. They were proof that he’d gone through what he’d gone through. That he’d made it out alive, and was still here.

Whatever the reason, he was glad he’d opted not to do any treatments to reduce the scar tissue. At least for now. Maybe in a few years, when they started fading more on their own, he’d look into it. But for now... For now, they seemed to help.

“Hey, pretty boy, you in there?” Derek called, knocking on the door. Spencer rolled his eyes, grabbing the single crutch he’d been using recently to make his way to the door.

“Where else would I-I- where else would I be?” he asked, making Derek smile.

“I dunno, maybe you were tired of waiting and bailed out of the window or something.”

“Oh, hey, that’s a g-good point.” Spencer turned, eyeing the window curiously. Derek gently punched his shoulder, and Spencer laughed. “R-relax, Morgan. How would I even g-get home on one good leg?”

“Exactly.” Derek shook his head, stepping inside the guest room - restored to its previous state. “You all packed?”

“Yep.” Spencer gestured to the single duffel bag - Garcia had taken all his books back the night before, so he didn’t have to deal with it today. “Y-you think Rossi’s gonna miss us?”

“Oh yeah, he’ll be begging us to come back within a week.” Derek picked up the bag, following Spencer out toward the front door. “He’ll get lonely.”

“Well, maybe he’ll mi-miss me.” Spencer conceded, smirking. “But he’s prob-probably glad to see you go.”

“Wow.” Derek looked offended, eyes widening slightly. “You are not holding back, are you kid?”

“You guys have to drive together, you know.” Rossi pointed out as he joined them. “Being mean won’t make the drive very fun.”

“Mean?” Spencer put a hand on his chest, feigning surprise. “I don’t have a m-mean bone in my body, Dave.”

“Right.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “You sure you’re gonna be okay alone in that apartment?”

“Yeah,” Spencer said, for what felt like the millionth time. “And I’m g-gonna be fine next Monday when I s-see you at work, too, believe it or not.”

“Alright, alright.” Rossi stepped back, holding his hands up. “Then why don’t you two hooligans get out of my house already?”

“See, I-I told you he’d miss me.” Spencer joked, following Derek out to his car. Derek just shook his head, though Spencer could see his smile. 

He knew they were going to be worried about him for a while, and he wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. The slow realization that they weren’t doing all of this out of an obligation had been coming to him the past few weeks, and it made him want to get better even more than he had before.

* * *

Hotch glanced out the window of his office, checking to see if Reid had arrived yet. He couldn't say he wasn’t nervous about the genius coming back already. Sure, it had almost been two months now, but that didn’t stop the nagging worry.

Worry about his mental state, for one. Spencer had been making huge strides in mental health - Rossi had reported this after one of their recent chess games - but there was definitely still room to grow. Though, Aaron figured they all had some mental snares. 

He was also worried to see how he’d settle in with the two new members of the team. Alex Blake - who Spencer already knew, and probably wouldn’t be much of an adjustment - and a younger new recruit, Russel Scott. He’d been picked up by the bureau after completing a master's degree in psychology and made quick work of the academy. Hotch really had no idea how his and Reid’s personalities would fit together, and that was really what made him most nervous.

He knew Reid didn’t like change - and there had been a lot of it lately. Hopefully, things would go smoothly for them.

Hotch looked up again, spotting Morgan and Reid as they walked in, coffee in hand. It seemed so normal, the only slightly odd thing was the crutch under Reid’s arm. He seemed to be in good spirits, and Hotch smiled in relief when he heard the normal joking tone of voice seep through his door. 

Aaron got up, crossing his office to the bullpen to join them as Rossi started introductions between Reid and Scott.

“I’ve heard some pretty great things about you.” Scott was saying when Hotch walked over. Spencer laughed awkwardly.

“W-well, I’m sure they’re not all true.”

“Ah, stop that pretty boy.” Derek shook his head. “Every single rumor is one hundred percent accurate, newbie. You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Scott smiled. “It’s good to meet you, Dr. Reid.”

“You too.” Reid’s smile seemed tense, and he made his way to his own desk after that. Hotch glanced at Rossi, who surprisingly didn’t seem so concerned. He’d definitely noticed the switch, so Hotch was sure he’d get an explanation soon enough.

And, once going back to his office, he was right. Rossi followed him in, closing the door.

“Should he be back?” Hotch asked, looking out at where Reid was already doing paperwork.

“Yeah.” Rossi shrugged. Hotch looked at him skeptically. “Get him across a chessboard from you, and you can get him talking. It’s interesting.”

“So you know what that was about.”

“According to Reid, Doyle made a point of only calling him ‘Dr. Reid’.” Rossi explained softly. “But he’s doing better about it, obviously. I’m proud of him.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” Hotch felt a spike of anger, and he knew if he hadn’t already done it he’d want to kill that man. 

“Aaron, he’s okay.” Rossi clapped Hotch on the shoulder, turning to leave the office. “And he’ll hate it if you baby him, so get it together.”

“Right.” Aaron chuckled, knowing he was right. “Thanks, Dave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah if you see Russel Scott again in another fanfiction know this is technically not the same one I just wanted to put in a new recruit and decided to use the same name for him so idk what to tell you lmao
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! I hope it lives up to expectations T-T its just a slightly angsty, slightly fluffy, fun little epilogue finale type scene. Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: PTSD, talk of mental illness, torture mention, violence mention, death mention, angst.

“Well well well, look who’s finally awake.” Spencer jumped, turning to see Ian Doyle walking up to him. He reflexively took a step back, heart pounding.

“Surprised to see me, Dr. Reid?”

“Wh- you’re dead,” Spencer whispered, shaking his head. “Where am I? I know you’re dead, I saw your dead body.” 

“Ah, I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Doyle sneered, and Spencer winced when he felt his ribs seem to crack. 

“I’m not ‘supposed’ to be anything,” Spencer said, annoyed. “I have an IQ of-” wait. He wasn’t stuttering. He wasn’t having any trouble putting words together and getting his voice to cooperate. “I’m dreaming.”

“Obviously.”

“I don’t want to dream about you,” Spencer grumbled, glaring at him. 

“You’ll never stop dreaming about me.” Doyle laughed cruelly. “I’ll be here forever and you’ll never be the same. Every case you work, it’ll make you think of me. Every time you look in the mirror, you’ll see what I did to you.”

“I…” Spencer swallowed thickly, turning away. “I don’t care.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Not in the way you think.” Spencer insisted. “Every case I work, I’ll remember you and try that much harder to bring justice down on a criminal’s head. Every time I see what you did, I’ll remember what you did and how I lived through it and got stronger. I’ll never be the same, but every single experience shapes who people are. I’d say the same for any other moment of my life.”

“That why you’re dreaming about me?” Doyle asked incredulously. “To see what you’ve overcome?”

“I’m dreaming about you because you terrify me,” Spencer said softly, closing his eyes. “Just because I know you’re dead and I’m alive, doesn’t mean this isn’t a nightmare. I’ll just deal with it because I’ve already overcome you.”

“Or maybe you aren’t dreaming. Hallucinating? You’re the right age, Dr. Reid. Maybe you’ll see me all the time, forever.”

“No, I won’t.”

“They’ll lock you up with your mother, once they realize. How long will that take? How long will you endanger everyone on your team?”

“Hallucinations aren’t this clear or precise,” Spencer said firmly, though he couldn't push the dread out of his stomach, where it was coiling. “They don’t make sense. As long as I’m thinking clearly, I’m fine.”

“I’m sure everyone who hallucinates knows that it's a hallucination,” Doyle said sarcastically. It wasn’t like him, which only helped to confirm that this was a dream. Using Spencer’s own logic and fears against him. Classic nightmare. He just wished he would wake up from it already.

“Oh, you won’t wake up.” Doyle insisted. “This is your life now, Dr. Reid. Do you think you’ll end up killing somebody? That sure would be a way to end your career, wouldn’t it?”

“Stop,” Spencer whispered, hugging himself as he stared determinately away from his dream. 

“Maybe you’ll kill Agent Morgan. Or Hotchner. Oh, maybe I could make you kill Hotchner for what he did to me. It would only take a bit convincing.”

“You’re not a hallucination, and I’m not going to hurt anybody.” Spencer’s voice quavered, but he tried to keep it steady. “Stop it.”

“Or maybe that godson of yours, or Garcia?”

“Stop!”

Spencer shot upright, chest heaving, and he blinked around at the room for a moment. He’d been right. It was a dream. Of course, it was a dream. Doyle was dead, so it could only be a dream. The clock on his wall told him it was almost five in the morning… did he want to wake Derek up this early? He’d promised to tell them if he wasn’t doing well.

Was he doing… bad? He still felt terrified, and slightly paranoid about the possibility of hallucinations. But he hadn’t had any signs of it before, he was almost thirty years old… he was almost past the point where it wasn’t possible. Well, when it was less likely. Traumatic events were known to trigger schizophrenic breaks, maybe his mind really was fracturing. Fuck.

Ugh, his hands were still shaking from the dream, and now he was getting himself freaked out over that again.

Spencer scrambled with his phone, managing to grab it from the nightstand and hit Derek’s contact. After a few rings, he answered.

“Reid? Everything okay?” he’d clearly been woken up, and Spencer winced guiltily. “Reid?”

“I...I-I don’t know.” Spencer sat up, trying to steady his breathing. “Wh-what… what if this tri-triggered a sch-schi-sch- a break? What if… what if I-I’m not… what if I l-lo-lose it?” ugh, his stutter had been going away until now, and here it was back at full force.

“Reid, you’re not losing it.” he heard Derek sit up on the other end of the line. “We would have noticed by now if this triggered something like that, alright? And you’ve been seeing Dr. Coates, does he think you might have schizophrenia?”

“...no, h-he doesn’t.” Spencer sighed, finding his worries calmed by hearing all this from another person. Someone who was real, and who he knew was real. “B-but… but I-I’m… wh-what if i-it happens, and… and what if I h-hu-hur- what if I hurt someone?”

“Yeah, right.” Derek laughed good-naturedly. “You’re one of the least violent men I’ve ever met, pretty boy. I know that might not say much, but it’s the truth.”

“N-not on purpose.” Spencer groaned, rubbing his eyes. “B-but… you’re right.”

“Yeah, I know I am.” Derek chuckled. 

“I-if… if I… if my mind st-starts breaking up…” Spencer swallowed thickly. “W-will you… will you m-make sure I don’t?”

“That won’t happen,” Derek said firmly. “If saying I’ll take care of you makes you calm down, I’ll say it. But you aren’t gonna have a break, kid. Your brain is fine.”

“W-well, ac-according to Dr. Coates, it h-has depressive tendencies.” Spencer pointed out, calming down a bit more. “An-and anxiety, and PTSD.”

“Yeah, but no psychosis. No schizophrenia.” Spencer could hear Derek moving around a bit, and scowled.

“Wh-what are you doing over there?”

“Gettin’ dressed, so we can go get breakfast before work,” Derek said casually. “You need to talk to someone face to face, I think. To convince yourself you’re not just hearing things.”

“...th-thanks.” Spencer knew Derek was right, and he was so grateful for that. “I-I’ll get… I’ll get dressed, then.”

“Sounds good, pretty boy.” Spencer could hear Derek’s smile in his voice, and it made him smile too. “I’ll see you in a bit, genius.”

“See you.” Spencer’s hands had stopped shaking, and his heart rate was nearly normal. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“I’m here for you, Reid. No matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I wanted to be sure to show that Spencer's recovery is still a work in progress, but also show how far he'd already come! I also just wanted him and Derek being Bros (I do ship Moreid, but I try not to do get-togethers right after trauma in fics because that's dangerously toxic irl)
> 
> Also, I'm working on a new fic with an OC (Russell Scott) who has OSDD (something I have, it's really similar to DID) so you can look out for that when I post it soon-ish!
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? This idea came to me as I sat at my table and ate some pumpkin pie while watching Buzzfeed Unsolved. I don't know what that says about me, but it probably means I spend too much time watching Buzzfeed Unsolved or something along those lines.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Love you all,  
> -Coby


End file.
